And here only the sound of falling leaves.” ……………………………………………………………………………………………Ryokan
“We gotta get out of this place, id it’s the last thing we ever do” …………………Eric Burton
“Every organization is perfectly designed for the results it gets” …………Ode to the Moron N’ Chief…Wubbolding
Is he in jail yet? I cannot believe we have come to this point and still have to brace ourselves to deal with the predictable shenanigans…it never ends……. think how all of this would have seemed like science fiction 15 years ago…forget your political inclinations, your philosophy, your level of patriotism…and just think about what it is like to be looking and listening to this moron………we are talking about the leader of the free world…..HOLY BUCKETS…….two hours to Québec is all I can say….
But enough…. Contrasting this day…. and blocked up after a warped wonderful weekend with Tess and Sloanie here…. we got in some walks early in the week, watched the leaves go away, stick season descend, and have everyone disappear for the duration……still playing Monday music with John in his last days, which has been a gift for all of us…. still trying to keep the Dumpmaster from kidnapping TQ, still trying to keep TQ from adding a last minute wing to the house……but you all have other shit on your mind today……as do i…as do I…..is it ground hog day?
So the game is afoot, ten days and counting…. four sting winds to be lonely. Four string winds to go home……I’m gonna get that ol’ turnpike and I’m gonna aide………
In the mist of all of this and that. Bric and Brak, schlep and schlup, yin and yang…. I think we will let the pictures tell the story, story……it’s a gift, no? the phonebook is her, the phonebook is here……
TQ is considering kidnapping Ivy and spiriting her back to Ohio…the cupboard is running bare, the plants have escaped, the chimney is laid, 20 degrees last night………we really gotta go now, go now, go now……
Check out Kamala on the last Saturday night live opening……. if nothing else, how cool is it to have a president with some sense of humor and the ability to laugh at herself?
Ok- going now……good yontif……speak –easy……Damn the torpedoes……. we’re gonna live out on a rainbow in spite of ourselves……..
“What I wear is pants. What I do is live. How I pray is breathe.” ………………Thomas Merton
“From the power of jumping into the water, the Frog can float” ………………..Torei
“I am happy to have the people I like make money” …………………………….Ferlin’
Every picture tells a story, story…………good ones this week capture the essence and fade of the Autumn her in Da Greens……so staying with The Zen flow…. for now….winding down….tears of a clown…..opulence on the ground, swirling sounds……….goin’ round and round……
First Fall Fade is:
……early Monday morning flight up the 7 to thru the Big town and then onto to the quirky Chaplain Islands for a three nighter
……cottage on the splendid lake……almost one of the Great ones, not quite…..Urine trumps it……20th year in a row for fall celebration….morning birds dazzling in the warm autumn sunlight
……Foliage Peak astounds, as we are almost in stick season in the southern climes……. nature’s glory….an overture to the soul……rock and roll…….smoke da bowl…..
……TRADITION (think Zero Mostel on The Roof)……………………..The Happy Chicken dirt road emporium for the pot pies…….Halls Orchard for a bag of Vermont’s finest…….Hackett’s for THE best cider donuts in creation….how long does it take 2 sane adults to eat dozen a cider donuts?…..thus is trick Zen question……
……Finding a world class Thai restaurant on a small island just short of Canada in a small house with a gaggle of wonderfully displaced Thai woman in the back and a classic Vermonty native-species Reluctant Server up front….Duck to die for
……Roaming the Mystic Dunes at Alburg State Park…and strolling the trails at all six state parks on Island time……all to ourselves……. Papi, TQ, Lucy. Leaves…. REPEAT…….
……. Finding a trail that make you feel like it is 1972 and you are on your own for the first time, somewhere in France…. OR…..that looks le a 1970 album cover with Alvin Lee…..smoooottthhhhh……..
……Discovering local history for the first time…. like the long gone Rutland Railroad line-that ran up thru the Islands in tiny railway bridges and into Quebec for a century…….i hear the train a comin’’- its comin’ round the bend………
……The Dumpmaster and his ADM are in woolens and taking up residence in the Dump-Hump-Warming Shack…..but still rush out for hugs for Stuie…and bugs for Louie……Whoowey…ride me high…..
……Driving over the Andover Pass on a sunny afternoon……a dirt road calling out for a hike to the windy top and the cow communing…. then down to Crazy Chester for box lunch on the green….gazing at the 1850 Public Tomb across at the graveyard …..what do teenager girls do in Chester?
……. Shockingly, in mid-70’s running into nights in the 20s……and the beat goes on……
……. Yankees and Dodgers………GO BLUE…… Kamala vs the Fall of Democracy……. MUST……GO BLUE
………joining the ACLA…. Anti-Covet League of America……wish not, want not……all I need is luv………
……. cleansing, preparing, pruning, storing, readying…………………………soon to be of off se the wizard…. but NOT YET…………..still leaves to be sought out…….
Review: Number 17 in Walker’s’ critically acclaimed series that features, Bruno, the Chief of Police for the Vezere Valley and the town of St. Denis in southwestern France’s fabled Dordogne region. As usual the mystery soon melds into thoughtful fore’s into French culture, cuisine, history and, especially, Les Resistance movement of the second World War. You get to learn, you get to be allured, you get a good mystery.…and you get really hungry from the detailed meal prep descriptions in this region famous for its gastronomy and wine. These books are simply a must for anyone with a Francophile tendency.
Notable People: Zahn McClarnon, Kiowa Gordon, Jessica Matten, A Martinez, Noah Emmerich, Created by: Graham Roland
Title:Dark Winds
Review- Based on the “Leaphorn & Chee” novel series by Tony Hillerman and set in Monument Valley, Navajo country in 1971, “Dark Winds” follows the FBI investigation of a bank robbery in Gallup, N.M., and the Navajo Tribal inquiry into the local murder of two Native residents. Continuing the tradition of recent dark portraits of modern Native American reservation life, this story incorporates the horrors of forced sterilization, uranium based greed murders and the struggle to maintain traditional Tribal spiritual values in an unyielding white world. McClarnon, who has become a go-to actor for modern Native American police types, is subtly wonderful and the supporting cast is excellent. Scripts are well written, the landscape well portrayed and the music score is perfect. Hoping for more Joe Leaphorn.
“I wanna live with a cinnamon girl; I could be happy the rest of my life with a cinnamon girl” ………Neil
“It’s never too late to do nothing” ……………………………………………ZEN
“No seed ever see the flower” ………………………………………………Papi
So my friends, a longish and brackish week, with trial, triumph and trauma…. true dat…. slipping into darkness…. reveals the week in short Koans by day…. too little to describe-too much to ignore….really, goin’ up the country, baby where you want to go…gonna make if short, short, short in this cohort….lovin’ the sport….in all its warts…..
Sunday in the park……two hours of pickin’ in the cold and wet for the fulfillment of Cider Haze. Have you ever been really cold and had a hot cider fresh from da press…….and fresh baked cider donut? Speaking of cider donuts….’nuff said………. Roster of band: The Cape Do-It couple, The Cantankerous retired Vet Doc, God ‘s Own Mandolin Player, The Cohunes Man and Ferlin’…such a night…..
Monday, Monday: slipped into town and ye olde Price Choppa…for some goods and a sneak attack at the seafood counter for a mess of fried seafood platter (8.99)..while nobody is lookin…slippin’ away to another day….Music folks back with john in garage as he begins to fade more rapidly…….dark days proceeding, but the Circle Will NOT be Broken….
Tubesday- slipped in a quick early morning trip to the spring house for some stretch and lift and a soak…….then, comin’ down the mountain as he comes, as he comes…to Albany INTERNATIONAL for quick fly to Baltimore…have you ever got to TSA and realized you could not find tour license….who let the dogs out…..hoo….hoo….hoo……….ye old Baltimore …Mt Vernon brownstones, with literate, paparazzi, Bangladeshi, makin’ messy…..boutiquey Hotel indigo….with a sitting room in my suite…and a view………………….
Wednesday wobble- went for a run………..led to major limp…all day planning meeting for the 15- years –in the making- blessed training event……how to 7 people get to know each other a whole lot better……sharing massive plates of Ethiopian..…no utensils or napkins…………….sharing each other’s drool laced fingers…face dripping in delight……………………OOHMMMMMM………………..
Thurbish-day- Delivering the gospel to 50 apostles from all over eh country……Families may or not be part of the problem, but they are ALWAYs part of the solution………….pulled Stuart Smalley incantations out of my bag of ticks…..…imagine 50 adults yelling to partners: I’m good enuff, I’m smart enuff…and gosh darn it, people like me…………elevating to a new level of total PC…..or not………beautiful dinner at top of classy Hotel Revival…with skyline and full moon thru picture windows….open bar only so far…took me half hour to limp four blocks back to hotel……getting badder…foreshadowing?
Friday/ MyDay- burst of training mania…….taking home the two day intensive………..many new friends, hugs, kisses, tic tocs together……ding dong, the witch is dead…..blitz to airport…practically crawling to the gate…….landed back at ALB…..TQ messages nowhere to go an X-ray till Monday in our remote kingdom (except ER , of course, which I have pledged to try and never enter again)……found Urgency Carefree open on drive home in Troy….x-rays ….no break….but Got Gout this is, unfortunately, not a same word twice error)…been ignoring symptoms and charging on for weeks………. and now got bad foot rising with moon…. steroids……road are………. sex all night thoughts…..spare-me
Saturday- D-Master gone again….becoming hot bed of rumor mill……the painter of a month ago, stopped by; disgusted with his referral total no follow thru…claims he will take care of it all in the spring….looking at him, we wonder what are odds he is with us till then…TQ planning of send him supplements and kale until painting is done….she also ruminating about stealing Ivy to go home with us….more planting…more home improvements…………………..more amazon gift cards to spend without Papi seeing the bill….drink , drink that swill….tryin’ to not reach overkill….Back on the train with roids, elevation, ice and edibles. (think’ of weed, whites and wine…. give me a sign….and I’ be willin’’….to be movin’)
Back round and round……. it’s the circle game…Papi on the IL…. maybe no jog for a few days…. after brazenly doing 2 miles after I got to B-more and then limping to finish line)
Filled in my absentee ballot with great joy today…are you allowed to black out anyone on there????
Off to the “Islands” for annual fall visit this week for three nights-saying mid-70s, sunny and PEAK…. oh joy….I’m yer boy….I’m your toy……and I don’t want no one but you to love me………………………….I wouldn’t lie….I’m not that kind of guy……………and, away we go
“A leaf falls, Totsu!!! Another leaf falls carried by the wind” ………………….Ransetsu
“You’re real. But, you’re NOT really real” ……………………………………… Da Buddha
“I was so much older then, I’m younger than that now” ………………………Bob Dylan
Well, Cider Daze weekend has finally come-and we are in the midst of it. The Queen has neither been seen nor heard from in a week, as she presides with her Court over The Gala; though I did have several sightings at the festival yesterday as she whizzed by in the royal golf cart. We have been in the midst of a fantastical dry spell, with no rain in over a month; the pond is 4 feet down, our streams are drooling, leaves falling dryly off the trees and crops going to waste-yet now, on the second day of our mount holly extravaganza, we’re expecting a monsoon, just in time for my little pickup group, the Mount Holly Ramble, to play a soaking 40 degree set this afternoon for the moist leaf peeper masses.
The Queen and Sister Jane, who is with us for our traditional weeklong cider daze visit, left before dawn for the rigors of the golf cart and oversight of the Kingdom. We fetched Jane on Wednesday at Hartford, after the usual harrowing trip down the northeast corridor of I-91. Stopped for lunch, for the first time in 20 years, at the now upscale Putney Diner, the once haven for classic diner meals and now semi-yuppified………essentially meaning the price has quadrupled. On Friday, with The Queen missing in action, Jane and I set off for annual Rutland Ramble; starting with the jaunt thru the world’s most elaborate car wash, on to Ramuntos for the 2-slice special, and later completing our successful hat trick by scoring late season Maple Creamees at the joint in West Rutland. In between we did the shopping, which included a minimum of 20 minutes at the self-checkout at da Price Chopper, where neither of us could find the slot to pay with cash, and were practically rolling on the floor before we were rescued by the deaf, dumb and blind kid, who provides oversight to the morons who can’t figure out how to check out by themselves.
After completing our assigned grocery and Wal-Mart tasks, we headed a home, but stopped to see the masterpiece of a covered bridge, the nearby 1820 covered bridge, recently renovated to its original completely wooden form at a cost of $1.8 million and repair time of two plus years; all absolutely worth it for its beauty and astounding workmanship. We returned home for senior rest period, only to remember, a day late and a dollar short, that The Queen had assigned us to prepare the giant $100 organic, farm fed, Birkenstock shod Plew farm chicken. Amazingly, neither of us really knew how to do this, but Betty Crocker came to rescue via the Internet, and having stuffed the poor bird with anything we can think of that fit the bill of being an “aromatic” (don’t ask), we nervously stuck it in the oven, where it emerged golden brown and cooked to perfection in a feat of historic mind over matter proportion that shocked the already shell- shocked Queen on her arrival.
The Pond is dying.
Still, no paint-man in sight.
In my weekly politically incorrect highlight (though the whole blog od be classified if that way) …..I proclaim GO TRIBE………….amazin’…..
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, this hills are alive with the sound of music, ciderists are pressing, and gaudily attired leaf peepers roam in search of schmaltz from Connecticut and New Jersey. Jane and I both did 2 hour shifts at the cider daze’ merchandise gazebo yesterday, and were blown away by the phenomenal amount of SHIT that people have to have ……………………. Tote bags, insulated cups, hats, calendars and an extraordinary number of gallons of apple cider………………….. Almost tearing down the booth when we could not keep up with the thirsty demand. Likely logged over 1000 guests on our little square yesterday, and Papi withstood a work shift with our local United Nations- Women of the Year- hundred and 50 years married- horse empire- volunteer coordinator, who literally elbowed me out of the way if I stood between her and the cash box, and came within inches of having a stress fried embolism on the spot; in anticipation of which she instructed me to step over her and continue selling cider until my shift, for which we had to pinky shake.
See the attached pictures for a short chronicle of the People of Cider Daze.
From the booth, it was on to the community supper at the Odd Fellows Hall, which was even more chaotic, disorganized and crazed than usual. We survived the usual onslaught of seemingly holocaust-like starved diners, who paid $15.00 a head in the belief that they could have as many helpings as they wished, and be served at a level to be expected at the Waldorf. When I was told there were only 16 more portions, I went out to tell the waiting throngs, still on line for a second seating. I barely escaped been lynched over the murk of Star Lake. Thus, I got out my Ray Donovan baseball bat from the trunk, swinging it wildly, until the famished, hangry-drenched leaf peepers dispersed, only to reappear screaming for supper moments later. In the end, the Odd Fellows (which they most certainly are) decided to feed all at the expense of not having any food left over to feed the exhausted volunteers………. At which point I retrieved the bat once again from the trunk……………………… And thus, we ate.
So, I’m hiding out trying to figure out how I can avoid playing through the monsoon this afternoon, and enjoying the peace and quiet of my secret Blog-world. The Queen and Jane have already left for the day to serve the howling throngs……… Got to go get my big boy pants.
Off this week to Baltimore for my 15 years- i-n development Family-Engaged case plan training with a cohort of selected folks from around the country; my dream project coming to fruition after a decade and a half of toil, to which I owe many thanks to the Casey Foundation for its ongoing and relentless support.
Back at ya next week- same time, same place. Aloha, The Papi-San
Notable People: Benedict Cumberbatch, Gaby Hoffman, McKinley Belcher, Ivan Morris Howe Created by: Abi Morgan
Title:Eric
Review- in 1980s New York City, Vincent, a puppeteer in the Jim Henson mode, in an unhappy marriage and whose nine-year-old son, Edgar, goes missing. Vincent turns to a variety of substances and his barely held in check and increasingly volatile behavior alienates him from his friends, family, and coworkers. In his inebriated and unbalanced state Vincent becomes convinced that he can reunite with Edgar with the help of his seven-foot-tall puppet, Eric. Like my review of “Under the Bridge”, this is another one that took a long time to watch, as it was pretty painful and not many likeable characters. That said, Cumberbatch is a virtuoso and always worth watching and young Howe is splendid. Beyond that, it got somewhat tedious, like “when will be it over” tedious. Made it to the finish line but lots of predictability. Quite fascinating portrayal of the city’s underground, beneath the subway, subterranean living environment.
Notable People: Riley Keough, Lily Gladstone, Vritika Gupta, Alyana Goodfellow, Izzy G. Created by: Quinn Shephard
Title:Under the Bridge
Review- Based on the highly acclaimed story of fourteen-year-old girl from Victoria, BC, who went to a party with friends but never came home. The show delves into the secret world of the young girls accused of the murder and reveals shocking facts about the improbable killer via the eyes of the local girl turned magazine writer who comes home to her troubling past and her teen best friend (likely lover), now a local police officer. This was hugely popular book and the mini-series is well cast and well-acted. It is a frightening portrait of teen angst in modern times-and of an incredibly biased and subjective justice system with echoes of alienation and bullying, as well as the trials of cultural adaptation. Though it as very powerful, it took us a long time to finish it as it was really hard to like almost any of the characters-teens or adults. Very, very dark portrayal of modern states of anomie (look it up). To be fair many people liked this a lot more than we did. Keogh and Gladstone are both very talented but seem to be getting pigeonholed in similar role ruts.
Review: the critically acclaimed final work of beloved Vermont fiction by Howard Frank Mosher, who died in 2017. Mosher continues his 30 year, 14 book odyssey exploring the story of centuries of the Kinneson family of Vermont’s loosely disguised remote Northeast Kingdom fictionally, Kingdom County). The setting, which has often been the focus of Mosher’s four-decade-long career, is brought up to the 21st Century. Through a series of stories rooted in Northern Vermont, Mosher captures the essence of rural America with dead eye commentary, subtle observations on people and relationships and a masterful dry wit. I periodically pick up one of these book at the library and always become immediately entwined in his fabled Kingdom community and its irreverent characters. Vermont’s fiction laureate in my book.
“Who knows this morning what will happen tonight?” ………………………Chinese Proverb
“Autumn coming is felt not only in the autumn breeze” ……………………..Hokushi
“Coma, coma, coma, Chameleon” ……………………………………………Boy George
OMG…did I miss a week?……………………..Did you miss the week? Did we all miss the week?……………………….too, too much Juju …nowhere to run, nowhere to hide……. Time has come today……TIME…….
As you might imagine, the birthday six weeks for The Queen has taken up some bandwidth and put me in arrears…in a rears?………..so, the gala had continued since we last spoke unabated, with a trip to Les Left Bank in Weston, for a decent diner in an elegant dining room at haute Paris prices…then back to our fave, The Hub, for the monthly FREE lunch…yes, my friends, there is the free lunch (are you hearing me, Feel?)….a magnificent offering, I might add, in this uniquely renovated old Vermont farmhouse , and then on to the Eastern townships of Quebec, for three days of Franco immersion…you might wonder if we are on the stretch run, yet? Non, mais Non. ….still have a fancy ass diner, two more fall outings and an overnight concert trip to go…..I hear the train a comin’, it’s comin; round the bend, and I ain’t seen the sunlight, since…I don’t know when….
The free lunch was surrounded by an inspired day of roaming the hills with The Southies…..who joined us, and got the place to open up the bar for them , at the free community duffer lunch…and patently drove around in circles with us for several hours…..ah…the leaves…ah, the leaves….
After that, Papi was off for three days to CHITOWN, via the hated drive to Hartford, to find The Bear…..stayed in the River North area and wandered my old haunts from my five year run there a decade ago….and did eventually find the Bear’s Italian Beef shrine……dined outside on a lovely fall night at a traditional Italian family joint, watching the big town crowds stroll by well towards midnight…not Kansas anymore, Dorothea…..got to site visit a 28 million dollar neighborhood community mobilization program deep n the hood, that was beyond awe-inspiring…..art, music, podcasts, science, theater, journalism……all for inner city kids to deter them from the system pipeline….take a moment and google –“Build- Chicago”….a testament to the power of vision and positive regard…and hope, hope, hope…..
Came home long enough to spend a day, wash the clothes, pick up the little woman and the hound…and of course, checked in on the return of the grievous Dumpmaster after his two week absence…spent an hour sitting next to him in front of the garbage compactor to see if he would rise to assist…..which he did not, but offer a profound running commentary for each and every dump patron….thinking maybe this is a job for em next year?
From there it was on to cross the border……though it is certainly not the Trumpsters’ border…Les Quebecois are happy to have is…and our own border guards remain proficient at practicing total intimidation, rudeness and inability to smile …I tried several jokes which came close to landing me on a transport to Mexico…but in the end we crossed back thru the quietest crossing on earth …one border guy was snoring in his chair…and managed to bring Lucy back in without being imprisoned…bit, I digress….ah, Quebec….two hour drive to cross the border and within five minutes, into a French immersion course…no anglais, non anglais……found our lil’ chalet in the forest and started our tour…highlighted by L’Abbay du Lac de Benior….a 200 year- old Huguenot order of Benedictine Monks (the silent types) that is magnificent and fully self-sufficient, set in a valley surrounded by the Laurentian’s range….bought a bag of their orchard grown apples- for three bucks American…dollar is bustling north of the border….wow…wandered around the townships in search of Gamache…..and fining somewhere to eat (Sunday thru Tuesday having become a dining wasteland in our necks of the woods)…but managed to find a spectacular Patisserie for les deserts and French cook at home dinners. Then a Parisian sidewalk café in Sutton pour les dejeuner, in the extraordinary afternoon fall sunlight… even having dinner at golf course (only place open for Monday dinner in a 40 mile radius) …food ok- but with a incredible deck view of the sunset mountains in every direction…all accomplished in mumbled Francais.…oui, merci, bon, tres bon, bien, tres bien…ou est la toilette, Merdi, d ’accord….i think that’s about it, non?
So good, we are considering a return trip Les Quebecois instead of annual trek to Maine coast………….
Still waiting for a painter…….
Pond now down four feet- nor rain in a month- and still 70 plus daily….no climate change here……but really, hard to complain…fuck the grandkids…..let them worry about it………
Finished our meanderings with trip down the northeast 91 corridor to nowhere, Connecticut for our sixth annual Bronx reunion………..which is akin to being on the set of Good fellas…….guns and pasta abound…..but re-connecting with friends of 65 to 70 years (no shit!) …Priceless…two unable to come this year…but we still mythically reminisced of the bygone glories of 1950-60s Bronx life……and all the legends that go with it…pas the braciole…..
Got back in time for our annual showing, in our tiny library, of the Manhattan Shorts Film festival……Mt. Holly is one of several hundred venues around the globe, along with Paris, London, New York, Berlin…and us…………. how weird is that? My vote for this year’s best picture of the ten finalists we saw (we all get a vote- even in Belmont, which crowns the international winner)-was for a four minute film, that was able to show a near-tragic and hilarious and heartfelt story in that amount of time…that is brilliance in my book….I’m gonna work on becoming such a storyteller…imagine reading the Blog in four minutes…….
So on to sister Jane’s annual fall visit this week and Cider Daze, our crazed fall fest, next weekend…..hear the sound of the men working on the ch…aainn gang……and, The Beat Goes On…..
