I was a little nervous about the trip to the Northeast Kingdom this weekend.

You see, my last trip to the NEK had been senior year of high school. State soccer semifinal game. We lost the poorly officiated game, 1-0. (While I'm not a fan of criticizing referees, a reverend from my hometown present for the game told the officials they were bad men. When even a man charged with delivering God's message is telling the officials that they blew the game, I feel comfortable criticizing.)

It sucked. And I kind of hated the NEK for it.

But there I was, back in the Kingdom, sitting cross-legged on the floor. My back was very lightly resting against a basket of dog toys. A small fan blew cool air onto my face, relief from the ridiculous heat that had descended upon the state late last week. The dog to whom the toys belonged stretched out across the living room rug, gazing languidly up at Chad and Patrick from their seats near the window.

So this is what that whole house concert thing is like? Cool...

I'd never before attended a house concert. Informal jams? Yep. Extremely intimate gigs? Sure. Performances atop car hoods? You betcha. And a four-person singalong on a college townhouse porch in the early morning hours of, say, my 21st birthday?

Haha. Yeah, that too.

But no house concerts. Which is partly why I was so intrigued by the possibility of taking in the show.

I was able to partake in one of my favorite activities at concerts - studying the hands of the guitarists at work. Having attempted a few (read: many, countless) times to learn to play, I'm well aware of the fact that my fingers aren't strong enough to form the proper chords or to hold down two strings at once. Watching musicians contort so easily never ceases to amaze.

And frustrate, but hey.

I sipped raspberry lemonade from a plastic cup took in new songs, old favorites and covers that surprised and made me grin. The quiet of the audience gave me a chance to be even more touched by the phrases Patrick penned for "Fire Escape," for instance. And Chad's new material continues to reflect his foray into new territory - including one song (don't know the title, sorry) that uses a vocal register lower than I believe I've ever heard him use.

And there was a cover of "Fake Plastic Trees." That was an outstanding, we're-playing-multiple-octaves-of-the-chords-here-at-song's-conclusion performance that left me kind of giddy. Not gonna lie about it.

Got my "Metaphor" fix, and might have finally heard "Like Riding a Bike" live, had I not been completely surprised and confused by a question of "What do you think?"

What do I think? About the weather? The Red Sox? Oh...the next song? Whoops. It's probably for the best, however, as my first inclination would have been to laugh and suggest "Daffodils."

That would have been bad.

At one point, I was trying not to grin as Chad played "Let You Sleep." I focused my attention on my surroundings, noting with delight the framed family photos hanging from some walls, the concert posters affixed to others. A random little eclectic collection of memories on display.

Good times, and I felt pretty happy as I drove back south so I could once again head north.

Turns out that the NEK is much nicer when the playing occurs inside a house instead of on a soccer field.