Como Esta:
“I knew nothing but shadows and thought them to be real” …………………………………………………………Oscar Wilde
“When you can bear your own silence, you are free” ……………………………………………………………………. Mooji
“I do not seek; I find” ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Picasso
Autumn burst on the proverbial scene this week- after deluding the mountain folk into thinking too dry, too wet, too cold, too hot…this is the year it will just skip us by….NOT…one day it looked washed out and seemed to be going from Green to Brown…the next day , the hills were alive with the sound of music……Had my eldest niece and nephew in this week from NC and a lot was done…so got way behind….and you wondered where the Hell I was on Sunday….well….Truckin’….got my chips cashed in Keep Truckin’, like the do-dah man… Together, more or less in line……
So, not got much in the tank at the moment…. like nada, no-mas, zilch, nuthin’, negatory, Namaste, nevah……gonna let the pictures tell most of the story, story…with few notes on NanaPapiland adventures to perhaps clarify…. or more likely confuse…
Spent days this week trying to find lunch……where have all the cafes gone…with the Covid wind……supplies, employees, excuses……holy mackerel…. can’t get a bugger…
The mountains are a rugged place for car repair, insurance settlements, computer fixin, phone doins…and nasty Cell service…but the Gods aligned his week, and we now have signal…an actual signal…. A real signal……holy cows…. (but sacrificed the printer connection to get it) ….no free lunch…
The Southies up the hill are still crazy after all these years…and hate to be called Southies…sorry ‘bout that…………………….
We may yet have ice skating this winter in da pond….
Storms wreak havoc, no???……
New Hampshire 300-year-old churches are the majordomo of rummage sales….
The Dumpmaster rides again….
What beats happy hour duck- deluxe at the Homestyle Hostel?……..
Well…maybe a post-happy visit to the Fah-Mas Mah-ket and some fried chicken from Schwan’s (previously Shaw’s) and dinner on TV tray tables –and baseball- by the fire….
Real Mets fans are fuckin’ nuts…………
Toolin’ #1- open studio weekend in central Vermont…. throw me sum pots……glaze me sum glass……. freewheelin’ thru’ Wallingford, Rutland, Fair Haven, Poultney, Castleton…. majestic mountain names…….and splendid late season Creamees at Lac Bomoseen……and then…. the glow of autumn lite on the ride home…. oh, mama…………….
Toolin’ #2- hidden Packard road dirt walks with the 1700s family cemetery on a fall morning, pickin apples from the stolen tree for crisp, Tap to Table festival in bright sunshine Sunday glow…listen to the music…
Oh, how we danced……the kid’s anniversary dinner with special Vermont vinery, red gravy extravaganza from Sal’s……dinner by candlelight in front of the roaring fire…. Bing Crosby, anyone?
Toolin’ #3- morning in classic (tho tourist-crazzy) Woodstock, the splendor of Queeche Gorge, Route 100 majesty, on up to the gilded gold-domed palace of the people’s house in Montpelier, spectacular burgers at Buddy’s’ Famous (Lucy welcome) …and then…the coup de grace……… of the Italianate onliest Hope Cemetery…
And lest we not forget the sparkle Barn sparklin’’
Now it time to say goodbye to all out fam-a lee….M I C…see ya real soon……K E Y…why, because we love you……
Zine Gisent.
Stu
