I'm now living in Vermont--I finished my last chore in Massachusetts yesterday. I'm focused on acclimating to living in a new state, something I haven't done since 1974, when we moved to California--though that's another story.
The most obviously different thing about living in Vermont is that you can actually get from place to place in a car. I've lived most of my life in the greater Boston area, the town for which the phrase "you can't get there from here" was surely invented, and for two reasons: the street layout and the hideous traffic.
An example of the confusion of Boston roads: Back in the days before cars had GPS, some friends were walking down Boylston Street, one of the streets bounding the Boston Public Garden. A car pulled up next to them and a frazzled-looking man in a tux with a large musical instrument in the back seat poked his head out and asked, "how do I get to the Symphony?" My friends stood looking at each other, and at him, knowing there was no easy way to explain how to drive to Mass Ave from the wrong end of Boylston Street. To get there, you had to know how to get there. There was no way to give him good directions that would *definitely* get him to Symphony, short of getting into his car and driving him there. They gave him some rudimentary directions and told him to ask someone again in a mile or so.
And the volume and misery of Boston traffic is legendary: just last Friday, when I began my final trip to Massachusetts, I spent two and a half hours crawling 18 miles on 93S through Boston. The traffic was so slow that I was able to write--in longhand--in my notebook until I got bored with it, then I downloaded a traffic app and admired the red on all the roads out to the second ring road of Route 495, played a game on my phone, read one of the books that I keep in the car for just such an occasion, and probably did a few more things. Won't miss that.
But back to adjusting to being in Vermont.
Last Tuesday, I figured I'd go to the bank where my husband opened an account and get myself a bank card. I got into my car and realized, "I don't know where the nearest TD Bank is in Burlington." The driving part of my brain immediately started rattling off detailed directions suitable for getting anywhere in Massachusetts: Go back inside, start up your laptop--don't forget to reboot your in-laws' internet because it's kind of hinky--do a search for the nearest branch, write down the address and phone number and directions, don't forget to double-check the directions and the route on Google Maps, and then you can put the address into your Garmin....
But then the decision-making part of my brain cut in, saying "nah, don't worry about it. Just get in the car and drive around until you find a branch."
What???
Yup. You can drive around in Burlington, Vermont. There are just a few major roads. If you want something, it's on one of those roads. It can be trafficky, but it's nothing like Boston or another major metropolitan driving hell.
So I got in my car and drove down North Ave into town. No TD Bank there. Nothing along Battery Street in town, either. I hooked a left up Main Street and there it was, a TD Bank. With empty parking spaces at the meters right in front. And its own parking lot, I realized as I angled to back into a space--the first one in line. So I turned into the parking lot instead of putting a quarter in the meter and selected one of the several open spaces.
Huh.
I could get used to this. I think I'll need to take those books out of my car.
