Fifty summers ago: For years I had a recurring dream of returning to my childhood home in the outskirts of Goffstown, New Hampshire, a small town in southern New Hampshire. We had a house with rose-covered trellises, a fireplace, a full attic and cellar and two barns. When you looked out the kitchen window, you saw the Uncanoonuc Mountains, two wooded hills whose name translates Breasts of a Beautiful Maiden. That’s where the sun came up. Over the breasts.