When Wassisname Frost…ol’ Frosty…ol’ Chilly Britches himself wrote that famous poem, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t talking in *metaphors* and *allegories* and *imagery* and all that poetical crud. And really, the poem wasn’t famous at ALL when he wrote it. It didn’t get famous until a whole bunch of other people *read* it. You know. Just to be clear.
Anyways, everyone always figures he was talking about how that poem was all about being an individual and being brave about doing things other people don’t do. Probably that’s because how teachers learned it, all the way back to, like, the middle ages when he wrote it, so you can’t really blame them. But he wasn’t talking about any of that stuff. Here’s what Bobby Eff meant:
When you are travelling in New Brunswick from Fredericton to SACKVILLE (snigger) to meet your long lost brother for pizza, it is better to take highway 106 than to take the Trans-Canada highway. This may appear to be a bit too specific for a poem written more than thirty years before the Trans-Canada Highway Act was even written into legislation, but trust me. This is what he meant.
Because there’s a little tea house on highway 106, between Dieppe and SACKVILLE (snigger), and it’s the best thing on earth. It’s run by an English lady, and she serves everything homemade, including jam. She serves proper cream tea, and she makes coffee in a french press (which they call something entirely different Over There) and the scones are perfect, even though they have raisins in. When she mentioned that she didn’t get as much business as she thought she would, and would gladly sell the entire property and everything in it for under $200,000, I damn near made an offer. In fact, I think I might have done.
If you take a look down below, you’ll see what may well become my new house. In Dorchester. Just down the road from SACKVILLE (snigger).
My tea house: