Ola Mes Amigos:
“In an age of constant movement, nothing is more urgent than sitting still”……………………………………………………………….Pico Iyer
“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves”…………………………………..Viktor Frankl
“OM”……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Ferlin’ Norris
“Five thousand years a
wandering people–then we
found the cabanas.”………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Haikus for Jews
Ola Mes Amigos:
“In an age of constant movement, nothing is more urgent than sitting still”……………………………………………………………….Pico Iyer
“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves”…………………………………..Viktor Frankl
“OM”……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Ferlin’ Norris
“Five thousand years a
wandering people–then we
found the cabanas.”………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Haikus for Jews
Well, I’m just about recovered from our nine day odyssey with Little Quinn…though it took two days and a lot of naps. Jenn has been sick the whole week after her herculean effort at mothering a two year old. Moral of story…… it is better to be grandparent than be a parent.
Mountain Reward- after returning from Boston and a few naps on Monday, we tooled down the mountain to Rutland to the beloved East for sublime Chinese food on Memorial Day and a visit with our bestie Mexican waiter, who is passing for being Mongolian.
Glasses shopping in the mountains- in between a ton of rain, more napping and a little actual work, I went down Tuesday morning to see the local Chiropractor. Last time I was there they lent me a pair of reading glasses to schedule an appointment. I really liked these old Walmart-type throwaways (of which I have a magnificent collection)….so I brought a pair of my own down this time…and was able to consummate a trade…this is how one obtains new glasses in the Greens.
Mountain dining- about five minutes down the road to Ludlow from our house is the veritable institution of Harry’s Café…which made a triumphant return to this remote location last fall, after a three year sojourn in some ridiculous airplane hangar of a building down on Route 100 (close to the winter ski hordes’ appetites). We used to go there all the time, but A- it is hard to get in and B- they have ski tourist pricing…..but Wednesday night, we could not think of anything to do for dinner, and went down for a combination of faux Thai and British Empire dining….came home short on wallet and long on carbs…
Day Tripping- on Thursday, we woke to a classic mountain day- 70’s, middling sun, no humidity….and took off for our first real outing of the season….heading up the Route 7 corridor to the charming burg of Middlebury. Hit the Middlebury College Art Museum (world class for its size) and their two new and major retrospectives. The first was a retro of the photographic genius of James Blair, “Being There”- which showcased his work of 35 years as the primary staff photographer for National Geographic. Blair was not only a traditional (pre- digital) photo genius…. but a world class social activist (some of his American series photos were part of a book hastily put together by NG in an effort to defeat the environment onslaught by Reagan and James Watts in the 80s……where is Blair now when we REALLY need him?).
From there it was on to their “50 for 50” exhibit with one major art acquisition presented for each of the museum’s fifty years. Amazing shit (who says thee is no culture in the mountains)….and a great way to start an outing. After the museum we motored over to the great Italian deli , Costello’s, for a picnic lunch orchestrated by the apparent Mama Corleone. We even had the Don Barzini sandwich to be one with the moment. Then it was onto the search for a dirt road (around Leicester-pronounced Lie-ster….since we always drop the “ces” part in New England), where we did our first real walk of the year…to Lucy’s delight. We have had so much rain, the Black Flies apparently have not yet realized it is spring, so it was relatively pain free. After several shopping stops in Rutland on the way home, we got back in time to watch the Toronto Raptors whip the hated Warriors in the NBA finals….Oh Canada….my favorite new song…
The Trout King- made a trip on Friday over the mountain to see the Trout King and obtain the yearly supply of POND bacteria and some pond trout. THE POND is looking a little shaky…so hopefully the insertion of the magic bacteria ball- bags will alleviate the need for the kayak/kitchen strainer activities. Lucy loves their big old drooling dogs…and the endless pools of millions of spawning trout…and no one leaves the King’s lair without a half hour oratory on the godliness of all things Trout…..
Name Dropping in the Greens- a few years ago, I met a guy at the gym, who is retired heart surgeon…out of the game due to a near fatal heart attack (missed his own advice apparently)… and quite the guitar payer…and oracle. I see The Irish Celebrity Doctor a few times a week at the Okemo gym and on Monday nights at Folk Club. His heart attack left him with some residual brain affectation, so he tends to tell me the same stories repeatedly …sometimes 2-3 times in same visit…His stories, often set in Dublin, are always amazing, but this week he managed to relate, in one sentence, having had dinner with Richard Thompson, RD Laing AND Margaret Mead……I am working on my own matching story to rise to the occasion…ideas accepted!!!…
The Angst-Ridden Yard Boy- we have had a long history of young men assisting us on our two endless-work properties. My dear young friend, Marcus, long ago set the gold standard for yard boys back in the Ohio homestead, and, we have had worthy competitors since…..the mountain yard boys are another story. For a while we had a very nice young man, who spent most of this time staring at the primordial life in the POND, whilst occasionally picking up a shovel or weed whacker. Our current iteration is in the form of our young family friend, Ian, who is a pretty good worker, when he manages to remember to come down the hill. Yesterday, we had made plans for him to be here at 9 (I dragged myself out of bed after a late night at 8:30 and got right to work)..…he eventually arrived at noon….AND.. had to leave by one. Of the hour we had, half of it was consumed by his morose tales of self-discovery (and trying to get out of his mother’s house where seventeen people are now residing in multi- generation harmony) For the remaining half hour, he alternately weed wacked and kicked and screamed at the ancient whacker with threats of taking it to the Dump…Good help is hard to find?….
And so it goes….Sunday June 2nd…in the Greens….
Stu
