Monday, I had my second failed attempt to register the boat trailer. The first attempt was with a bill of sale. Not enough information there. I was told an old registration would have the missing info. Not so, it turned out, if the trailer had previously been registered in the state of Maine. Apparently, Maine's requirements are not as strict as New Hampshire's.
There is a procedure for that. A police officer had to drive out to my place and physically examine the trailer. It wasn't a particularly detailed inspection. Let's just say that on a breezy -5 degree day he didn't even bother to put a coat on. He was back in his cruiser pretty darn quick. However, he did fill out the magic piece of paper.
Back to Town Hall in the morning. At least it's not much of a hardship to deal with the local officials. There's rarely a line. They all know me by name. We chat about each other's families. (part of the lubricant of small town life) The town clerk does have some sympathy for my plight, but her hands are tied on the state level.
I've decided to be amused rather than frustrated by the whole situation.
At least the boat registration went smoothly. That had to be done at the state offices. They actually let me fill in some missing info on the bill of sale. Kinda done with a nod and a wink. Nice when a state office is staffed by actual human beings.
Follow the Yellow Brick Road.
2 hours ago