Happy Sunday Boys and Girls:
“Muddy water is best cleared by leaving it alone”……………………….Alan Watts
“New at Oys “R” Us!
Hypochondriac Barbie
has a gout attack”……………………………………..Haikus for Jews
As Ed Sullivan would have said , it has been a Really Big Shoe this week. I’m probably too much in a chemically Zen state to write as much about it as I should- so will go for the highlights.
Last Sunday started quietly with another in a long line of classic late summer (or is it early Fall?) Vermont days. Neither we nor the quickly disappearing POND have seen any rain to speak of in weeks. Having run out of Marriotts to go to, I spent most of the day with Jenn in the basement on the ethereal basement floor project….while alternating with supervising the elusive tree cutting boys, who managed to show up at 2 that day for the 10 am scheduled time. So….. we slaved in the basement while they swung around in the trees recalling the verve and tenacity of our local heroes, Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys.
Managing to get both projects in some semblance of finish, and having got the GM Boys down out of the trees with only minimal breakage of their limbs…..we headed into town and to our beloved East for our treat of a dinner…..accompanied by the J.F.M. (c’mon you know who that stands for by now…..got to take some short cuts today…LOL…WTF….). Our ritual Sunday dinner and extended family trip to the grocery store complete, we returned home in time for the Naven to arrive, the first of the Bunty Station boys…along with Lucy’s’ bestest twin ball of black fur, Miss Rosie.
Monday dawned hot and sunny…Eclipse Day….which led Nave and I to a hike out of the heat down to the Ice Caves where it went from 86 to 65 degrees in a matter of minutes. Buzzing around the trail trying not to look up at the surreal sunlight, with the dogs running miles of concentric circles, we came down the last of the trail to find the dogs circling a huddled group of Hasidic Jews in full traditional garb, screaming to protect them from the feral dogs…”Oy, help, help, I’m so sorry, We don’t know from dogs, Help us , Please Help us”. We managed to stop laughing long enough to corral the little beasts, which led to a whole second round of begging for forgiveness. With heavy breath, they asked us how much further to the trail end…which we surmised meant to the view a few minutes away, rather than the trek to the ice caves. We left them huddled and shaking…only to realize when we came upon them they had only gone about five minutes from the parking area, and wondered if they would be overtaken by the dangers of the woods to make the ten minute hike to the view. There is definitely a haiku there somewhere.
Tuesday began our preparations for the weekend, with the relocation of the pond pump/fountain to somewhere it would actually be covered up by the dwindling waters. I left for town with Nave and Jenn floating around in the receding waters. Tuesday evening we took Steve down to the Rod and Gun club (really) for a Weston Playhouse production of “Buyers and Cellars”….the story of a young gay man who becomes the attendant for Barbara Streisand’s in-home basement mall…another haiku should come out of that one. We were deluged by massive thunderstorms which added a surreal quality as thy beat down on the tin roof of the theater (though the massive rain did not seem to elevate the POND, in any way shape or form).
Wednesday had Al and Donna arrive, with Mitch on the way from flying into Boston. So we packed up our expanding herd, and took off for a slice of Ramuntos in Rutland , lunch on the ground in a cemetery (where Lucy managed to find huge pile of cow poop to roll thoroughly in) and a smelly trip over to the Pittsford Trail….a leisurely walk through the woods and stream beds. Lloyd and son Micheal, arrived (let’s just say the apple did not fall far from the tree on that one) with our supply of herbal remedies in tow- the general consensus was that that the two of them were a mix of Pineapple Express and Cheech and Chong. . We had a spirited run through with the Band and then made a festive band dinner at home and planned our attack for the music extravaganzas.
Thursday was a work around the property day…with Steve and Mitch pitching in on the mowing, whacking, weeding and sculpting…before we headed off to Belmont to make our Vermont debut for Music on the Green. Drop dead gorgeous night, uber-enthusiastic crowd, great sound system provided to us….we played to well after dark, with folks refusing to go home and calling for more. We eventually finished with a frenetically crazy run of Rocky Top with spectral figures dancing wildly in the dark. We amazingly were tipped almost $200 in our open guitar case (someone dropped us a $50!!!!!!…like what Springsteen gets, no?). The night was pure MAGIC!. We headed down the mountain into Ludlow for a post-show Band dinner at Harrys, which was the only place still open and features stars on the ceiling along with the Thursday night Thai specials….and walked out two hours later hydrated, fed and laughing ..and only around $350 lighter. What a night.
For those who have not seen it, we were filmed by the local TV station ,and here is a link if you are inclined to watch 1 ¾ hours of the Bunties rambling in the hills. http://lpctv.org/summer-concert-series-bunty-station
Friday was our off day, and the Band all gathered late morning for a drive over to the very fine Weathersfield Trail and up to Cascade Falls for the view. After three hours of hiking, we hit the local dairy/drive through for a classic Vermont experience and the requisite Maple Creamees. By this time, we were sprawled all over my house for power naps….and then hit the Ludlow Farmer’s Market before finishing the day with a trip to Okemo Resort for the Friday night music series…which featured a rather bizarre Surf music tribute band as the night temps sunk into the 40s on the mountain…check out the outfits and the Fez they wore in the myriad of attached pix.
Saturday was the first annul Vermont Tye- Dye festival at our house (and our tenth or twelfth general rendition of this). Another drop dead day…good crowd, corn hole, croquet, swimming in the rapidly draining POND, lots of tie-dyeing……and an esoteric collection of tofu oriented food stuff…..AND a lot of music. I won’t say it was necessarily the kind of tight performance like that of the Green…but it was TRIPPY…no set list and a bunch of long jams with our local friends sitting it with the Boys…probably good there was no video for this one…or we would have all been arrested when the state police saw it. A day to remember. Finished the night with our first bonafide bonfire …really good THIS was not on video…or Trump’s militia would have been here for us. When we finally settled in to the house with the guests all gone, and were cleaning up and fulfilling long dormant munchies…the Fish Maven showed back up to tell us that Lloyd had inadvertently taken his guitar and he had Lloyds. With them leaving first thing in the morning from their hostel (really) in Ludlow, the fish man was anxious that his brand new Taylor was going to wind up back in the heartland. After repeated attempts to reach Lloyd or Micheal, he and I drove down to Ludlow at midnight to find the place battened down for the night. No luck with throwing pebbles at random windows –so we left a note on Lloyds windshield and headed back up the mountain….we made it halfway before the fish- mobile broke down in the middle of dark cloudless stretch of freezing road. Luckily, I had called Jenn before we left Ludlow (the car was sounding suspicious) to alert her to come out for us if we did not show up in twenty minutes…as you can imagine no cell service out there under the vast star laden sky. So- forty minutes later Jenn showed up (once the munchies subsided) to rescue us while we sat in the dark car next to an RV parked in the pull off for the night – that was blasting heavy metal and rocking back and fort suspiciously. Finally got to bed around 2:30…ending quite an eventful and robust day.
So- cleanup time is approaching…and I am on call for the yard. Again, I blatantly lied about the length of this tome…but, who’s counting.
See ya soon,
The Maestro
