You moved here for the postcard: rolling green hills, covered bridges, syrup straight from the tree. Then you met mud season, a six week stretch where your driveway becomes chowder and your boots stage a hostage situation. Then came the black flies, who do not care about your organic bug spray. Then came the winter that started in October and filed for an extension through April.
So yeah, broken heart. You still love it here, obviously, you just need the state to know it hurt you. The nearest decent parking spot is forty minutes away, every third person wants to talk to you about their raw milk, and a line formed at the creemee stand before the snow even finished melting. This shirt is a public breakup note that you will absolutely take back by foliage season.
Soft, breathable fabric with enough weight to feel substantial, stitched to survive dirt roads, woodstove season, and a thousand trips through the wash without going sad and shapeless.
