Good morning all:
We have been here a week today and are getting pretty settled in- it helps when you move into a house that is already fully settled. We have tried not to mess it up too much The weather has been a mix- some days it has rained ferociously in the afternoon and some have been pretty hot and humid; the nights are always blissfully north woods cool. I’m off today for my first trip “abroad”- an overnight to Baltimore, out of Albany- which is a disconcerting two hour drive just to get on a plane
So –here are some first observations about living in what the neighbor calls “ the most socialist state in the country”:
• Larry is the neighbor and he is a preacher in Rutland. He raises chickens and mallards which hang out outside our door all day long and play with Tripod. He calls us sir and m’am and every night at sunset he bellows out “Glory, Glory, Hallelujah” down the road . He and his family brought us a spaghetti and meatball cake for a welcome thought (yes- a real cake with spaghetti and meatballs on top- so you can have all your courses at once)
• There are apparently four miles of hiking trails per person living in Vermont. We have an old logging road out back end of our property which is a boulder strewn trail that connects to the other side of our road a few miles up. We are about five miles from the Appalachian and Long trail entrance, which goes to a suspension bridge and gorge pretty quickly. We are also about five miles from White Rocks State Forrest area- which is a drop dead beauty of a hike down a hillside to a stream and wading pool sitting with huge white boulders.
• Mt. Holly sits at 1824 feet elevation – which is pretty high on the East coast; when we leave our drive and turn on to SR 103 in either direction- we are immediately surrounded by the Green mountains and the Adirondacks. When we tell people in the surrounding area we live in Mt. Holly- they nod knowingly and say “ ah, the snow belt”. Hmmm..
• Vermont is all about local and organic. All restaurants have chefs trained at the New England Culinary Institute-even hole in the wall dives. Restaurants are part of the “fresh network “ of locally sourced food and everyone is “Organic” (except maybe us and Larry down the road). Every town around seems to have a farmer’s market. Ours is in our hub of Belmont- about four miles away- and is on Saturday morning. There are about five stalls and ten people- but we bought organic and free range chicken and buffalo there. They seemed to not know what I wanted when I put my fingers pointing over my head and asked for “Ta-tonka”. About five miles down the road is a huge organic garden and roadside stand. We stopped yesterday and it was closed- but the spacey, Amish looking proprietor, Podge, was hanging out back and offered to pick us some fresh fixings from the garden. We got some stuff we’d never heard of and ate it. Turns out Podge is the great nephew of the eccentric founder of the local in-the-woods treatment center, spring Lake Ranch- which is also five miles down the road (getting the theme here?) and where Jenn aspires to be employed part time.
• Along the road to our house- there are houses selling all manner of weird products; one has a soft serve sign outside- so we will stop by to see if someone really has soft serve machine buzzing away in their living room- and maybe keeping the house cool
• Tripod has found a home in the barn where he sleeps in an old grain bin, and spends his days mostly hiding in the bushes outside our front door. He aspires to join Gracie and Nico inside and tries every chance he gets. He has befriended the flock of chickens and a wild red tabby cat- with whom he shares his daily feasts
• We live in a house that was occupied by and electricians’ widow- so we have tools hidden everywhere and the wiring is all done in an eccentric mad scientist fashion. There are three boxes of breakers spread out all throughout our four room basement. While Walter electrified, Karin apparently mowed, and she must have been a pioneer woman. It took Jenn and I together five hours to mow and trim the first time. We were exhausted, dehydrated and it looked like shit.
• On Monday nights- the local musicians come down from the hills to the library basement to jam on folk and bluesy music for three hours. I have joined them and been immediately labeled a rock and roll influence right off the bat; maybe because I had come from just hiking on the “A” trail- and had wild hair and stunk badly and stood up outside the seated music circle to roam and play.
Well- got to get ready to travel- so that is it for now. Hope all is well in your world. Love or like you all,
Stu