Bonjour mes Belles Personnes:
Happy Father’ Day to all whom the shoe fits……or foo shits…….
“Coming or going, always at home” …………………………………………………………..Zen
“The cool breeze takes up its abode……even in a single blade of grass” …………….…Issa
“Yes, I’m workin’ my way back to you, babe…with a burnin’ love inside” ……………….Bob Gaudio
Father’s day Sunday morning sunshine abounds, but I wake from hazy sleep with questions on my mind.
Is there a connection between the price of milk and high percentage of people living off social programs in the state of Vermont?
How important as garnish?
Is it a traditional father’s day gift for the birds to tweet and the train to Choo Choo at 5:00 AM on the designated morning?
We started our week with the traditional Sunday night visit (clearly a Jewish thing) to the splendor of East for long awaited reunion with the roast duck with pine nuts. Lovely setting on the road to Killington, white tablecloths, Asian elegance, prices that defy the cost of Chinese Food anywhere else.
On the way, we got in a walk with Lucy and discovered a major new dirt road opp; running off route 103 on the old, and currently closed, Airport road. This is a Bermuda Triangle walk, in which one could disappear, and leads to an old gristmill and mid 1800s covered bridge being rebuilt. No cars, no people, rear of the regional Airport security massive fence, hillside overkill- are there terrorists targeting the Rutland regional Airport?
It appears that are Belmont General store is getting close to reopening, after two years of closure and massive rehabilitation- which may foreshadow no longer having to make a road trip to pick up butter, or beer- though there is some question of whether the new owners have any sense of the local’s needs or are trying to create a tourist mecca destination in the middle of nowhere.
Have I mentioned how difficult it has been to locate new release library books here in The Mount; currently I have the Mount Holly and Ludlow libraries competing for my esteemed business- as in which one is able to locate any book released in the last millennium.
My weekly trip to Rutland for the comprehensive shopping day provided an opportunity to continue my search for a lunch less than $13.00; I scored the $6.00 high-quality breakfast sandwich at Olivia’s Market- which is the equivalent of free lunch. See, there is free lunch.
Thursday night we made our first visit of the year to the Weston Playhouse to see the Vermont style production of Jersey Boys; more impressive then you might imagine from the oldest summer stock theater company in the country. We met our favorite Southie (well, maybe co-favorite) from the castle at the top of Bowlsville road, for a wonderful dinner in the exclusive Hub at Weston, connected to the theater; supping on the terrace on a magnificent summer eve whilst being served by an array of extremely precise and well-coiffed young men- what a night!
At the Dump this week, I encountered the new sub Dumpmaster, who claims to be a skilled handyman which we have arranged to find out. The true Dumpmaster apparently remains dubious.
Last night we attended a small birthday dinner cookout at the Masseuse in the Trailer’s place, for her partner, Metal Mike. The Masseuse has been out of circulation for the past two years after a series of losses; so it was a big occasion and revolved around their new state of the art gas griddle (compared to the half assembled built one our barn that has mystifying Korean instructions and that we bought for $75.00 at Walmart). Since COVID, Metal Mike has also become a mixology connoisseur, so we had giant fu-fu concoctions of unknown origin along with brilliantly griddled smash burgers.
It has been an interesting week all the way around, but the absolute highlight the week (maybe of the decade) was our trip midweek down to Manchester to pick up the print job for TQ’s Association for their annual mail stuffing solicitation. We intended to dine as the Burmese hole in the wall we discovered last year run by the Soup Nazi and his lovely wife; who makes bearing the NAZI worthwhile. Sadly, they were closed, which is unpredictable- so we settled for a New York style pushcart meal of hot dogs with mustard and sauerkraut in a parking lot, served by middle age lady claiming to have “the best buns in town”- which turned out to be true.
From there, we headed out of town on quaint route 7A to find the print shop, which was set in a small industrial park. While TQ went in to see to the printing, I went next door to what appeared to be a confectionery and chocolate haven. Entering, I realized it was more production then retail. I was about to leave when the gentleman behind a glass partition in the vestibule asked if he could help me. As I turned to him he yelled out my name and came rushing out to greet and embrace me. Ron, the owner of Mother Myricks’ deserts, and we had met at a wine and music dinner at the Manchester Inn seven years ago and he asked, at the time, to be added to the Blog mailing list. Turns out, he is likely the number one follower to my blog (did not even know I had followers”), is an avid reader, waits each Sunday for the Blog release with baited breath; he and his wife Jackie had actually discussed coming to find us in The Mount so that they could meet the various characters that populate the weekly Sunday sermon.
To say that this freakishly chance meeting made the day for both of us, would be a gross understatement. It was like finding a long lost treasure and allowed me to figure out who one of my subscriber email addresses actually belonged to. Turns out we share a plethora of cultural interests, and that Ron is fond of quoting the blog to his long suffering wife and looking up various and sundry lyrical obscura references I include for my own amusement, and am never really sure anyone else or really cares. Ron insisted we go back into town to visit his wife at the retail location; which resulted in quizzical looks and very fine desserts, before stopping back to see Ron and snap a photo, which he dressed up for and seemed to view as equivalent to being on the cover of Rolling Stone.
Ron, this BLOG’s for you!!!!!! My newest friend and best reader. Long May You Ron.
What can I say, one in a million——who loves Blog, Blog….…we love Blog, Blog.
Till next time,
Papi
