Good Autumn Sunday to all:
Well, it’s been a busy few weeks (and month) here in the mountains. We had a month full of friends and family visiting interspersed with a number of Airbnb guests….keeping us hopping. While we were running around changing bedding and making our day trip itineraries, autumn began descending in full regalia. Heavy early September rains ( much needed) have turned into brilliant sunshine filled days and very cool nights…the Vermont standard for this time of year. Jenn, the shop girl, has been plying her trade more frequently at the “Treasures” shop and Stu has been busy trying to create an entry to win the annual Mt. Holly photo contest (see the featured photo for this weeks’ blog).
After Steve and Sue left, we immediately hosted another contingent from the Bunty Station boys, with Mitch and Cindy’s arrival for a two night stay. Mitch got to go to Monday night folk club and fit right in. We decided to perform the Bill Monroe classic, “Wicked Path of Sin”, with the group… which was a real stretch , since it’s a true four part harmony, call and response number. But, in a quirky gift from the tower of song, we had two other visiting guests at the folk club that night and this couple had total mastery of the remaining two parts…turning us into a 1940s hillbilly ensemble with lead bass singing….it was A moment.. The following day we set out for a classic central Vermont tour, heading up Brandon and Middlebury way for a day of Italian feast picnicking, a trip up the amazing Bread Loaf ski area and then over the Middlebury Pass, a walk on the eccentric Native Spirit hiking Trail (sayings from Dr. King, Moses and Jerry Springer posted on trees along the trail) and back down magnificent route 100 with a stop at our favorite Maple Creamee place (when you come we will build one for you). By the time we left, we swore no more visitors (even though we loved all our visits) until spring…but then more Airbnb guests arrived. So, back to changing bedding, sweeping floors, making scones and creating trip – tiks for people.
The guest register has continued to be a quite interesting phenomenon, with recent guests including a couple from Harlem, who arrived in the middle of the night, spent two days running the Spartan races at nearby Killington, and left like pleasant ghosts in the night. Then we have had a young couple from Italy, seeking the full power of foliage season…so that has resulted in us flexing our 251 club muscles to try and create the perfect itinerary days for them…even in running the guest house we have performance anxiety (and trying to keep our string of five star reviews intact). Next up , we have a family of five (yes, count
‘em…five) coming from Denmark (probably, not directly) for next weekend…so I guess we will be moving out to the barn for three nights, which makes me grateful for all that extra bedding we have been purchasing. Before that, though, we are heading up on our own first fall outing, with our annual trip up to the Champlain Islands for three days this early week. This is always an interesting adventure, as we don’t make any reservations any more for our fall outings, and with Lucy, that becomes even more of challenge, but it always work out…and if push comes to shove, we have blankets and roof rack to sleep away from the moose.
We celebrated Jenn’s birthday last week with a dinner at the Inn at Weathersfield, a romantic getaway we had stayed at years ago during our fall adventure trips. Hard to find, tucked away with quaint Vermont Inn type dining area, it was beautiful dinner, until a group of loud drunken golfers showed up and started telling everyone about their successful investments….we prefer the local woodchuck mafia types here in Vermont. Jen worked at the shop, selling people boutiques last weekend for four straight days, so Lucy and I wandered around chasing leaves of various colors, which included a day at the Chester Fall festival. Chester does it in mid- September to beat everyone else’s’ gig, and it does not hurt that the village was voted one of the loveliest in New England (go ahead- ask me who voted). The place was packed with noshing, buying, picture taking flatlanders on a perfect 75 degree fall day. Needless to say, Lucy had many admirers, both canine and upright.
After three weeks of looking the other way, it was clearly time to get THE POND cleaned up. Still scum- less, but filled with pond weeds, I had my young helper, Seamus, come over (as we like to say, Marcus he is not, but a good kid nonetheless), and I actually set he and Lucy to the job…but after an hour, felt compelled to dust off my strainer and join them. Two men and a dog playing bumper-kayak in our little pond. But, see the pictures…we have had to beat away the local munchkins now wanting to swim in it’s purity.
This past week, we made an overnight trip down to the Bronx. My childhood friend, Bob, who was my first mentor in life, is confined to a city run nursing home there and thanks to the endearing HIPPA laws, we cannot find out anything about what is going on. So, we loaded up Lucy on a fine fall day and headed down the Taconic Parkway. Being a totally lapsed Jew, I did not realize it was the eve of Yom Kippur, which resulted in a frenzy of escaping Jews from the Bronx….all trying to get home to a massive meal before thy ostensibly begin a day long fast (my experience of that is it is a periodic fast with surreptitious trips to the local deli in between prayers) We had a moving and pretty upsetting visit with Bob- the place is classic example of what none of us wants to have happen in our old age. But, we came away with a plan to try and get involved with his appointed guardian to try and find him a better place to live. When we left we blitzed into crosstown traffic to find the place the Jews still roam (Riverdale) and a remaining archetypal traditional Jewish Deli. We got there 20 minutes before they closed to go to Schul (though I was suspect, since the only people left to work there were Puerto Rican), had a great nosh and hit the road with pounds of heart stooping smoked meats. We took a detour on way home to stay with my cousins Sherry and Joel, up around Woodstock, where we actually benched licht (lit candles –refer to your Jew dictionary) and spent a pleasant night and morning with them before heading back to the safety of the mountains. Did I mention it was Yom Kippur?… but luckily they were not too committed to not feed us a little something for dinner… thus we did not have to sneak out after they went to bed, as it would be a long way to find a deli. On the way home, we took a long meandering drive along the Hudson river and went through the quaint and clearly progressive little town of Catskill NY, which is apparently so open minded it has a bowling alley called the “Hoe- Bowl”…we should consider moving there..
So…back at the mountain paradise and getting ready to head out for another day of wandering, hiking and stooping to have people ooh and aah over Lucy. Hope your day is a good one!
Be well to all my loved and semi-loved ones.
Estuardo (Stu in Yiddish)
