>Bahhhh Hahhhhhbahhhh

>Fine, I’ll admit it.  I”m a sucker for a New England accent.  I secretly practice it under my breath. I love how New Englanders are so in charge, so secure in who they are, they feel no shame in changing the pronunciation of our language.  They drop “R”‘s like a bad habit.  They find “O”‘s to be dull, so they add an “AU” instead.  I love the harsh, slightly snooty Bostonian, the gentle rounding of New Hampshire’s vowels, Vermont’s coaxing of consonants and Maine’s sharp stops and starts.  Each true to their state, but with a undercurrent of unity only found in those regions far reaching into our country’s northeast.

New England accents made me do crazy things.  Like day-dream of blueberry cobbler for breakfast- with the berries picked along the shoreline during an early morning walk.  Buy only pine-scented candles in a vain attempt to capture the green mountains’ scent and infuse it into my New Jersey house- resulting in a sickening smell of a dying Christmas tree sprayed with Pinesol.  Try to imagine how we can add an addition onto the back of the house that looks like a log cabin. Oh, and of course, eat “laubsta” for “dinna” every night.

Perhaps it’s because every New Englander I’ve ever met laughs and talks a lot.  And drinks a lot. And eats a lot.  With a lot of friends and family. A lot. And repeats the process each and every day and I can’t really imagine how life could get any “betta” than that.

Bah Hahbah, here I come.

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