Category: Green Mountain Blog

Oh Brother, How Art Thou?

“The sparrow is sorry for the peacock at the burden of his tail” ……………… Rabindranath Tagore

“All is one, one is none, none is ALL” ……………………………………………. ZEN

“I got you Babe” ……………………………………………………………………Sonny Bono

Feelin’ the RAMBLE this morning, after a week of sturm and drang…so going with the abstract form……. the swelling is in the telling….

Sunday last was trekkin’ day, per custom, and off we went to the high country between Rutland and Danby in search of the museum of dirt roads; finding a beauty, complete with miles of matrices of hanging maple lines crisscrossed with raging streams, water wheels and vistas………  eventually leading us back to the draw of the two slice of special at Ramuntos…….  Just in time for roving alarms signaling the rare occurrence of tornadoes in the mountains……….  No climate change here……

The day the music died…………  Reminded this past Monday that weekly Folk Club at The Mount is not quite pulling into Bunty Station……………  Circles and song sheets are a poor replacement for soulful inspiration……….  Where are the men that I used the sport with?

Tuesday sauna workout at the Springhouse at Okemo Mt………….  Upside: the building and the facilities are all mine ….and what a view…….  Downside: broken air conditioning and working out in 89° heat…….  Must not be any free lunch……

Check out the photo of the new Library Maven’…………  my new volunteering gig at the Mount…….  Consisting of a two-hour weekly shift shooting the breeze with various local visitors and waiting for a train……….  My own library romper room…….

Has anyone checked out the HBO documentary on the history of Stax/Volt music? …………Otis, Sam and Dave, the Fabulous Bar-Kays, Isaac………… This may be the real American music………. the role of soul…….

Mid-week role into town to visit in Rutland Co-op……….  To acquire various seeds, stems, and bin potions for The Queens’ concoctions……………  I had to fight my way in, wielding a large organic carrot, due to my failure to own, wear or display a pair of Birkenstocks………….

Our new ambition to rid our barn (and souls) of 40 years of unwanted crap has resulted in a personal mandate to haul a minimum of five items per week to the dump……….  This week we made a special trip on Wednesday night with a whopping 10 plus items, of dubious distinction, loading down our trunk………  who knew that The Dumpmaster convenes his entire court mid-week…………  Clearly this is the place to see, be seen and conduct all forms of nefarious business………….  Much of our junk did not even make it to the bins, before being swallowed up by the hordes of shark like mountain folk…. …..

TQ is currently on the project rampage…….  Yard barely recognizable………….  Secret items arriving daily to the neighbors mailbox (she thinks I don’t know) ………..  This week she banished me to the basement to clean 10 years of dust and debris, requiring the double N-95 masking……… …while upstairs a new window appeared in my bathroom and plans were made for multiple construction projects……………  The coming week will apparently herald the initiation have a multiyear house painting project, led by the brand new assistant Dumpmaster……

I returned for the first time in some years to the table of the Masseuse in Da Trailer for hot rocks, suction and a full assessment of my spiritual wellbeing while she manhandled my ancient bones…

Friday we made our way down the iconic Taconic…….  filled with memories of my long ago childhood treks with my long gone father to West Point…. reasons unknown……  but always including a stop at the beloved Chief Martindale Diner (the real deal) ……still in business….and hosting our visits almost 70 years later….

This led us to our usual 24-hour annual whirlwind trip to visit my Cousins in the Big Apple surroundings…………  Five meals, 60,000 carbs and too much wine later we made our way home last night……….  Family- finding has become a mission of mine in my waning years….  And we were able to gather eight Cousins together for the traditional meal meeting at one of a dozen Italian Restaurants in the affluent Burb of Tuckahoe….

We stayed with my closest cousin in her high-rise apartment in the last bastion of Jewishness left in the five Boroughs………….  In a building self-contained to survive the next nuclear war and containing somewhere in the neighborhood the 10,000 scurrying souls……….  All of which proves to be a startling delights to Lucy, who must have been a very urban dog in a previous life……  who knew that she knew from elevators, noisy apartment neighbors and pissing on concrete? …  Bonus was a Saturday morning jog to a classic bagel emporium during the height of the rush hour to the massive Riverdale Shul…………  Bobbing and weaving through the hustling, suited and yarmulke bearing, murmuring observers of the faith………  leaving them a bit startled as I whizzed uttering “Good Shabas”, from what must have appeared to be a lunatic fifth Goy with a dog and a bag of bagels….

Not to mention stopping every 20 yards to snap photos of the quaint little Hobbit houses that probably sell for four million dollars….to Jews and Goys alike……….  there is some ancient, primeval attraction to these places I’ve spent years trying to leave behind, yet which emerges the moment I hit NYC traffic and my inner taxi driver returns from hiatus….

And is there a more alluring sight than the mighty Hudson River making its way from THE great city to the mountains and beyond….

Well, much as there is many more ramble to tell….that must wait for another time as we have to go see a man about a guitar…….  Don’t ask

So, until we meet again, may the sun warm your shoulders, and may you find a real slice of pizza regardless of your location……

Estuardo

Bonosera, Bonosera“White dew over the potato field…. the Milky Way” ………………….Shiki

“What a caterpillar calls the end of the world, we call a butterfly” …………………………..Eckhart Tolle

“Be THE Ball” ………………………………………………………………………………………..Caddyshack Zen

The Hot Tamale Heat Wave hit The Greens this week; pumping out near 100° heat for several days.  The Queen went haywire with temperature control……. opening and closing every window in the house, multiple times a day, for four or five days- ostensibly either keeping the heat out or containing the cool in.  Regardless of our interior state, midweek resembled a blast furnace outside- a rare occurrence in our mountain idyll.  We even resurrected the ancient window air conditioner to assist with sleep in the upper sauna.  Then, lo and behold, thunderstorms hit, and within hours we were huddled in blankets against the night chill-very Mountainesque.

We started the week last Sunday in search of a Father’s Day dinner; the dining out experience now akin to searching for the lost city of Atlantis.  After finding two advertised- as- open places closed and boarded, and sitting around a third totally chaotic waiting area, we bit the bullet and settled for Applebee’s………really Applebee’s (though, I am ashamed to admit that the 2 fer 25 is alluring-not quite free lunch- but alluring nonetheless). 

Filled with plentiful, if unspectacular, dinner fare, we sought a short grocery run- continuing our experiment with doing our shopping at the low rent Price Chopper; after weeks of disgust with Hannaford’s skyrocketing prices and failure to stock what we want.  The Chopper clearly appeals to a different clientele……. who apparently are now us.  The highlight of our trips there is often the assistance we require, and receive, at the barely functioning self-checkout; delivered in adventurous style by an extremely cross-eyed young man who is clearly on the spectrum and probably with Asperger’s; our interactions often involving something approaching pantomime.

Can anyone tell me what exactly a Webinar is, anyway?

In the highlight of the week, we returned on Tuesday to the splendor of the lovely Hub at Weston dining room for the monthly community lunch gathering.  We were amongst a small group in the very upscale, faux –rustic-mountain cottage dining room and clearly the youngest people there by a decade or more.  Not only did we enjoy a spectacular gourmet luncheon (almost Downton- Abbey-esque) but we were sent packing with multiple take out portions for friends in need back at The Mount.  Sadly, we were unable to deliver these in a timely fashion, and ate them instead.  I am reassured in my belief, that there is indeed Free Lunch. (ya feelin’ me, Feel?)

Lucy and I have resumed weekly dirt road walks with the Erstwhile Russian Spy; often resulting in long and in winding remembrances of life on The Mount; most of which are clearly fabricated, but fascinating nonetheless; and who am I to take issue with fabrication?  This week the walk started right outside our door in sprinkles, and up the hill to the home of the displaced Southies thru a roaring thunderstorm, returning Le Spy to our house drenched…just in time for dinner date.

After the heat, the chill and the downpours, Friday was nice enough for a day trip out to the Middlebury area.  We decided to take a long-cut, heading west over to Castleton and then up Route 30, a remarkably lovely drive, through the verdant Champlain valley; miles and miles of rich green farmland surrounded by The Greens to the west and the Adirondacks to the east.  Our reward was lunch from never-changing Momma Corleone, at the eccentric Costello’s Italian deli, nestled covertly in the fascinating old Marble Works section of Middlebury.  In between rain drops, we settled for dinner on the ground next to the raging river, with the old Marble factories looming in the background.

Saturday, after a belabored visit to the Dumpmaster, and his new protégé, we had a fine beat-the –rain walk on a nearby dirt road before settling in for rainy afternoon nap.  We are expecting severe storms this afternoon, likely to preempt our planned outing to an outdoor Weston playhouse performance up by Ascutney, which we may alternately catch in Grafton, later this week.  The show is really directed at children under 12, but there is free lunch, so what the hey?

Planning to hit The Trailer for massage this week from the elusive Masseuse, and make the trek down to The Apple later in the week to see the aging Cousins, of which I might add, I am the youngest; you go boy……….

Time to go and inspect the weed growth for this week.  Be brave, Be kind, Be curious.  Till then……

Papi-San

Bonjour mes Belles Personnes:

Happy Father’ Day to all whom the shoe fits……or foo shits…….

“Coming or going, always at home” …………………………………………………………..Zen

“The cool breeze takes up its abode……even in a single blade of grass” …………….…Issa

“Yes, I’m workin’ my way back to you, babe…with a burnin’ love inside” ……………….Bob Gaudio

Father’s day Sunday morning sunshine abounds, but I wake from hazy sleep with questions on my mind.

Is there a connection between the price of milk and high percentage of people living off social programs in the state of Vermont?

How important as garnish?

Is it a traditional father’s day gift for the birds to tweet and the train to Choo Choo at 5:00 AM on the designated morning?

We started our week with the traditional Sunday night visit (clearly a Jewish thing) to the splendor of East for long awaited reunion with the roast duck with pine nuts.  Lovely setting on the road to Killington, white tablecloths, Asian elegance, prices that defy the cost of Chinese Food anywhere else.

On the way, we got in a walk with Lucy and discovered a major new dirt road opp; running off route 103 on the old, and currently closed, Airport road.  This is a Bermuda Triangle walk, in which one could disappear, and leads to an old gristmill and mid 1800s covered bridge being rebuilt.  No cars, no people, rear of the regional Airport security massive fence, hillside overkill- are there terrorists targeting the Rutland regional Airport?

It appears that are Belmont General store is getting close to reopening, after two years of closure and massive rehabilitation- which may foreshadow no longer having to make a road trip to pick up butter, or beer- though there is some question of whether the new owners have any sense of the local’s needs or are trying to create a tourist mecca destination in the middle of nowhere.

Have I mentioned how difficult it has been to locate new release library books here in The Mount; currently I have the Mount Holly and Ludlow libraries competing for my esteemed business- as in which one is able to locate any book released in the last millennium.

My weekly trip to Rutland for the comprehensive shopping day provided an opportunity to continue my search for a lunch less than $13.00; I scored the $6.00 high-quality breakfast sandwich at Olivia’s Market- which is the equivalent of free lunch.  See, there is free lunch.

Thursday night we made our first visit of the year to the Weston Playhouse to see the Vermont style production of Jersey Boys; more impressive then you might imagine from the oldest summer stock theater company in the country.  We met our favorite Southie (well, maybe co-favorite) from the castle at the top of Bowlsville road, for a wonderful dinner in the exclusive Hub at Weston, connected to the theater; supping on the terrace on a magnificent summer eve whilst being served by an array of extremely precise and well-coiffed young men- what a night!

At the Dump this week, I encountered the new sub Dumpmaster, who claims to be a skilled handyman which we have arranged to find out.  The true Dumpmaster apparently remains dubious.

Last night we attended a small birthday dinner cookout at the Masseuse in the Trailer’s place, for her partner, Metal Mike.  The Masseuse has been out of circulation for the past two years after a series of losses; so it was a big occasion and revolved around their new state of the art gas griddle (compared to the half assembled built one our barn that has mystifying Korean instructions and that we bought for $75.00 at Walmart).  Since COVID, Metal Mike has also become a mixology connoisseur, so we had giant fu-fu concoctions of unknown origin along with brilliantly griddled smash burgers.

It has been an interesting week all the way around, but the absolute highlight the week (maybe of the decade) was our trip midweek down to Manchester to pick up the print job for TQ’s Association for their annual mail stuffing solicitation.  We intended to dine as the Burmese hole in the wall we discovered last year run by the Soup Nazi and his lovely wife; who makes bearing the NAZI worthwhile.  Sadly, they were closed, which is unpredictable- so we settled for a New York style pushcart meal of hot dogs with mustard and sauerkraut in a parking lot, served by middle age lady claiming to have “the best buns in town”- which turned out to be true.

From there, we headed out of town on quaint route 7A to find the print shop, which was set in a small industrial park. While TQ went in to see to the printing, I went next door to what appeared to be a confectionery and chocolate haven. Entering, I realized it was more production then retail.  I was about to leave when the gentleman behind a glass partition in the vestibule asked if he could help me. As I turned to him he yelled out my name and came rushing out to greet and embrace me.  Ron, the owner of Mother Myricks’ deserts, and we had met at a wine and music dinner at the Manchester Inn seven years ago and he asked, at the time, to be added to the Blog mailing list.  Turns out, he is likely the number one follower to my blog (did not even know I had followers”), is an avid reader, waits each Sunday for the Blog release with baited breath; he and his wife Jackie had actually discussed coming to find us in The Mount so that they could meet the various characters that populate the weekly Sunday sermon.

To say that this freakishly chance meeting made the day for both of us, would be a gross understatement.  It was like finding a long lost treasure and allowed me to figure out who one of my subscriber email addresses actually belonged to.  Turns out we share a plethora of cultural interests, and that Ron is fond of quoting the blog to his long suffering wife and looking up various and sundry lyrical obscura references I include for my own amusement, and am never really sure anyone else or really cares.  Ron insisted we go back into town to visit his wife at the retail location; which resulted in quizzical looks and very fine desserts, before stopping back to see Ron and snap a photo, which he dressed up for and seemed to view as equivalent to being on the cover of Rolling Stone.

Ron, this BLOG’s for you!!!!!! My newest friend and best reader. Long May You Ron.

What can I say, one in a million——who loves Blog, Blog….…we love Blog, Blog.

Till next time,

 Papi

Hola:

“There comes a time when one asks of Shakespeare, even of Beethoven, “Is this all?” ………………………………………………………………………………. Aldous Huxley

“There will always be suffering, but we must not suffer over the suffering” …………………………………………………………………………………………………. Alan Watts

“Truth is something you stumble into when you think you are going someplace else” ……………………………………………………………………………………Jerry Garcia  

Did you ever have to make up your ind? ……To pick up one and leave the other behind? It’s not often easy, it’s not often kind…did you ever have to make up your mind?…………………………..

Kids in Disney’s very hot summer universe pix attached for viewing….

Oh Queen, where art thou? The Queen (TQ) has re-established her court in The Mount….connecting with her volunteer efforts, her bone building, her posse and her rituals….out an about doing the deeds daily….developing new efforts to hand re-invent the land with the evisceration of our rear section of overgrowth; now housing a varietal of dug up and relocated saplings abducted from many trails and dirt roads…….and in her efforts to eradicate mowable space has now erected a tomato tent smack dab in the middle…she spends her days swathed in white fiber and black fly netting happily humming her way around the manse…dreaming up new and better projects…

Whilst, TQ engages in her efforts at yard eradication, social change and woman power, I search for lunch. I search near and I search far – and am befuddled by the utter lack of options regardless of direction….Since Covid, eating option losses include: beloved Sal’s in Wallingford, once beloved Sam’s Steakhouse (early bird deal of the century), the only locals place in tourist-bound Ludlow (Da café at DaLite), local legend Harrys , the local subway (only a slab now), and our closest grocery store and drug store-and of course, our local general store (closed two years now, and still under perpetual construction)….we are evaporating…..there is still lunch around- at about $13 a sandwich pop….which far. far exceeds my sensibilities and my allowable dally quota………where have all the flowers gone…where is the free lunch…where art the men that I used to sport with?………

Dirt road walks have resumed in earnest…with Lucy Lou far racing off into the woods to chase the very evasive “chippie” (any form of rodent that runs away) ……and …… to come back covered in a- animal shit, b- dead animal carcass, c- poison ivy or d- Lyme-bearing Ticks……………. it’s a dangerous world out there…….

Transitioning from suburban convenience to the rural mountain landscape always creates adjustments.  But these have become increasingly challenging (post Covid-post floods) and represents daily exotic (NOT erotic!) puzzles to solve.  Obtaining a jug of milk is akin to crossing the frontier in a covered wagon, sometimes amounting to an hour and a half of roundtrip journey.  This week I continued my mountain auto and phone journeys; finding my way back to the original sin, car dealer dealership to resume my efforts at defeating the random, flashing error lights that haunt my vehicle- this all before my 100,000-mile warranty expires next week. 

Even more challenging has been the amazing quest to secure a battery that might permit my medieval cell phone to take advantage of the newly spectacular availability of cell service at The Mount- with our switch to lovable Consumer Cellular.  But alas, not a battery within a 2-hour drive and the online mavens take a full week plus to find us- and that, only by having the orders sent to a fake mailbox belonging to the Masseuse at the Trailer.  Having finally been notified of delivery, I found her mailbox empty, then realizing that the benevolent, but not so competent, folks at the government’s mail dictatorship had kindly decided to not deliver to the proscribed address- but instead to lovingly hold this for me at my post office box- which had just closed for the next two days.  In disbelief, we messaged our friendly former postmistress, who agreed to meet us at the boarded up facility, to allow us access the long sought forbidden fruit; only to discover we had been sent the wrong battery.  Apparently, No phone for Bonzo- not yet, not today, maybe Tuesday…..  Did I mention some things are more challenging in the mountains?

Has anyone watched “The Patient” on Hulu……….  Role of a lifetime and show of the year………..  A rare piece of true small screen art………  Watch for coming review.

Is anybody watching the NBA playoffs?  Hard to maintain interest in June for the 50 million dollar men……….  It’s time for baseball, no?

Been trying to use speech recognition to offset constant stress of typing…. with mixed results.  While dictating this I coincidentally passed gas, resulting in the computer asking me “what was that?”

On the upside of mountain transitions, there is a fine dirt road waiting around every bend, the wonderfully empty Spring house at Okemo as my personal exercise facility and trails in the woods directly outside my door to romp down for my jogs…………  Not to mention the plethora of Creamee opps, shimmering lakes, regular jaunts to the one and only Ramuntos pizza, farmer’s markets ubiquitously placed and 85 degrees’ days with no humidity. 

Our mountain milieu provides a comforting safe harbor after the fruitless search for something resembling free lunch and a half day spent going to town for provisions, like some Friday night’s farmer’s ritual ….and then cruising Rutland’s’ miracle mile, back and forth, for hours on end, searching for one good thing…. left de circle…………….…right de circle……

Today we will try to connect with the legendary Trout King-to get The Pond its annual burst of macrobiotic energy in the form of his magic $300 secret bucket of nutrients, then a possible visit to a cancer ailing friend and the wiling away of what looks like a rainy day- such is a Sunday in the Greens.

Until we meet again can-just try and reach me…. if you can …. good luck with that.  Be well one and all.

Estuardo

Old Friends:

“From the moment we cease trying to swim upstream and begin to flow with the current, something changes within us” ………………………………………………. Arthur Sokoloff

“It’s never too late to take a moment to just look”………………………………………………………………………………………………Sharon Salzburg

“Over white cotton cloth spread out in the sun…billowing clouds” …………………………..Koyoroku

“The more we change, the more we remain the same” …………………………………… Who knows

We arrived …but just barely….so still in the nexus of a zillion things to do……. thus, a short welcome BLOG……listening to Ferlin’ rant from a 2001 Bunty show on “Ten to One” ……. how weird is it to hear your own rants live on the computer…? Only in America…. here with our short lived legend of a bass player Richard, singing the Seeds and Stems Again blues”.

But, I’m already digressing….leaving was less tumultuous than usual, notwithstanding my car reverting to it’s demon state of flashing random lights accompanied by instant loss of transmission power…….just days before flight…that led to last minute, last breath of my expiring extended warranty trip to the hated dealer….which pinned us down to the last minute before it was fixed (we’ll see about that-  last year it took 3 months) before we left Thursday….and as a result,  enjoyed a three hour enforced thunder storm break and wound up  having to pack the car top carrier at  nine at night completing the “it’s always something experience”………but by early Thursday, undeterred, we headed north, then East….a drop dead gorgeous travel day, that left the flatlands behind after a half day, and led us into the proverbial wilderness…..

Unusually for us, we drove tight thru, powered by a massive lunch pail in each car, and then a quick Diner stop at the Greeks’ in Troy, before turning north thru the pines…with our new beloved Consumer Cellular service working every step of the way through the valleys and the mounts….no shit…and then at our house for the first cell service ever….no BIG shit!!

The yard was a mess, we could not find anything. Reclamation gets harder with senior moments…. but on balance, all good, maybe even more than good. Leaving the grand-progeny behind no small task…and the last supper with Tess and kids on Monday had me crying an ocean as little Parkie and Sloanie exhorted me for one more hug Papi from their respective car seats just before driving off into the sunset…a piece of my heart leaving with them…as it was with my new band mates and my old friends of winter re-connection…not to mention the 3 minutes away Chinese food……. but then…. but then…. but then….

Lucy and The Queen are both clearly in unchained heaven, Saffron is busy with a treasure trove of meece hunting in the basement, the house is in good shape, the yard is conquered for now after two day of whacking, pruning, push mowing, mowing and chain cutting-and though I do wonder if maybe we are becoming too long-toothed for this………………… that gets assuaged by the visit welcome-home visits from the long-lost Trailer –Masseuse and  the persistent Dumpmaster who feels in his bones (like rain brought arthritis)  that it is to go to flirt with TQ, then by having Lucy’s little friend, Ivy, show back up, then a lovely post exhausting sunset dinner at DJ’s in Ludlow, and the sight of The (full) Pond once again bursting forth from the shooting fountain.

In between workloads, we managed a short trek to the wonderful Kelly’s Snack-shack in Wallingford for burgers, A+ hand –cut fries and …you bet…. Best Creamees anywhere (we should ask Lucy how good the fries and Creamees were)…..and of course the first dirt road walk amidst the grand verdant Greens.

See you for more Ramblin’……. both afoot and to you-each Sunday …or thereabouts….

Happy summer………yours in Heart……Papi

My Fellow Travelers:

“To know you do not know is the best. To pretend to know when you do not know is a disease” …Lao-Tzu

“Blind man running thru the light of the night, With an answer in his hand.
Come on down to the river of sight, And you can really understand” ………………………Neil Young

“Happy Trails to you…. until we meet again” ……………………………………………Dale Evans

We have reached the fork in the road…and should probably take it…. Stick Season is upon us……the days are darker and shorter the nights filled with the lonesome sound of cold coyote…..last leaves flutter to the ground as diamonds and rust….It is the season of the witch…….

Despite the frailties of leaving, it has been a varied and good week here in our hometown, where The Queen presides over the Mountain Court.

Vermont music has been reimagined this year and the Monday Night Rambles became A Groove when the varied and talented gathered of an evening to make the music of the folk……I will miss Belmont jammers and the often tri-mandolin frenzy….

 I may have negated to fully mention, in the last missive, that we went to see the legendary Bruce Cockburn last week at the splendid Paramount Theater in Rut-land…dare I say that the power of imagination and spirit live wildly in the age-bent Canadian icon…..and that who knew has so many rabid-and still breathing- fans…….of an age…touch of grey …or a bit more…..and along with that discovered the House of Tokyo..…an improbably genuine Japanese eatery on Merchants Row for the last 30 years….how observant we sometimes are?

Amongst my fare thee wells this week, will be the sad parting with my semi-permanent loaner car.……which I have had for over two months this summer/fall……which the legions of Jeepaholics have tried to diagnose and correct to determine the source of its alien-derived misery….the little dealer in on The Mount, has asked for one more chance to find the multiple ghost issues….so I will probably trade them back tomorrow…or I may just take the beloved loaner on a Heartland jag……call it a fair trade ….perhaps I can visit my ghost once  in a while?

We will certainly mis our step-dog, li’l Ivy, who now shows up every morning at 7 am to knock and see if Lucy can come out and play….and then spend her time half in and half out of the house…. alert to any possible appearance of the wicked beast, Saffron, who might show up and terrorize her any minute….

Made a three-day trip to Baltimore this week…. reliving past glories and staying at the very cool Hotel Indigo…. a top floor room with a view of the city and the monuments…and sampling the cuisines of Ethiopia and Afghanistan….who knew there were so many colors in the world…. not here in the Brave Little State where everyone pretty much looks like Bernie……did I mention it hit 87 degrees while I was there?……clearly living in the wrong place……

My two biggest recent pet peeves are Ballots and Tolls…. took me three weeks to get nan absentee ballot…. and then have only day to get it is a in order to count…do you feel like your vote is wanted?……who comes up with this shit, these barrier-rules……. feeling totally voter-repressed….  Is it possible that the wee-weenie- controllers of Ohio don’t really want to have my vote count on Abortion Rights and Pot legalization……… Hmmm?……….and then……. try traveling anywhere these days without an “easy pass” ……. Just try paying your toll on line….do you have to demonstrate an under 80 IQ to work for the state in these capacities…let me pay…please let me pay…I really want to pay…..ok, full disclosure:  I also just happen to want to pay so that the dealer dos not get the dreaded “pay my toll” billing…….and find out I took the beloved step-child out of state…..

Speaking of farewells……pr…et…. tty…. exhausting process……. I second that emotion…make it stop……

And it just one week, we had ongoing issues with Comcast Cable, Amazon and Verizon……. say……. Representative……. Representative…. Representative………what language exactly are hey speaking?……phones, cars and packages…all feel the pain of mountain life…………………………. can I get a signal?……….

Goin’ down to Ol, Ol Woodstock…..feel the cool night breeze…..made the trek yesterday down the mountains……to the bend of the mighty Hudson….back, back to Big Pink….and to the Midnight ramble…..though Levon is gone, it is now the Helm Family Ramble…….th players were mostly new from our heyday in the 90s, except for daughter Amy and the great horn guys who have been coming up from the city for 50 years of Alan Toussaint charts…but art and beauty are still in the air……100 privileged members of our Tribe gathered in the acoustically perfect candle-lit barn seeming to move back and forth in time…and re-visit the Angels of Saugerties…..to rejoice in  the music of The Band, in the holy-land from whence it came ….it amounts to a few hours of rapture and togetherness…….spent the day trolling diners and challenging any possible notions of low carb….how good is it to find a full page of  dinner specials at the classic Greek-run diner…tucked inside the 12 page menu…and server with soup, salad, sides and dessert for about 15 bucks…….and then to Levon’s again….oh my; he has a namesake grandson …..a teen angst belter with Joe Cocker like moves…and when he and his mom duet on Ophelia, with young Levon on grandpas kit…..Ophelia, please darken my door…..did I mention the uber-hip 60s revival of Saugerties and the lighthouse?… it a thing after a forest walk…who knew there were lighthouses on the Mighty Hudson……

Well Hallo-Weenie has come and gone, as you can see from the little-dervish pictures of all the heirs….and thus……………………it is really time to go….but, then it is  also time to come….endings beget beginnings….and that is where we are….

Stay warm and in touch…see you somewhere on the other side….

Papi Stuber

Bonjour:

“Bad pennies don’t tell you their motivation, until they wear a hole in your britches” …James Lee Burke

“A traveler. Let my name be thus known, This autumnal shower …………………………Basho

“The days re growing shorter, the nights are getting colder. Got to get myself back home, put my head back on your shoulder” ……………. Jesse Winchester

Oh my, my…..been a frolicking two week  and last week got away from me living I your five –year-old manna…..had a last blast of warmth this week, but won’t see 55 again for the duration….12 days and counting till takeoff……71 years  of American Dreams…… the world is a stinker these days…too much hate….but I am pressing on with hope and Elam in spite of…..

So back to the beginning….weekend before last we gathered via invitation from The Mountain Activist and The Retired Czar of the Postal Service for a Sunday date on a fine fall afternoon….made our annual trek up to Redding, and the flood ravaged-now reopened , and most unusual Hall foundation, for the Warhol extravaganza and a slightly less compelling Susan Rothenburg (are those really all vaginas?) exhibits…all in meticulously restored 200 year-old barn/ galleries…..after which we drifted back to Ludlow to the Hometown Hotel for the areas classic family style, farm to table feast in a private dining room…what is not to like?

That day saw the return after a week or so absence of Lucy’s Pitty suitor, Ivy……who has been wandering into the house at times but is deathly afraid of the fearsome Saffron, who reared up at her once like the Queen of Sheba…. Ivy typically drifts down twice a day (escaping the clutches of Dennis the Menace and Proud but Silent Mary, up the hill), to kick on our door and request Lucy’s company…. should we just take her back with us on the QT?

Monday, we strode out bright and early for the required yearly pilgrimage to the Champlain islands…where Cozy-Cottage Alan (whom we have now visited for 20 years running)….put us in the Big-Ass family deluxe cottage right on the Big Lake…with three bedrooms and FIVE couches…gas woodstove and very large TV….enough for the whole miscpachah……I managed  to nap on each of the couches over our three days….along with rollin’ and driftin around the deserted Islands…finding the brilliance of autumn colors we have missed this year near home….the whole thing is  a homely wanderlust for us….with our annual stops at The Apple Man and the Happy Bird, and dreamy hikes at all the ghost-town like state parks…we don’t even go out to eat when there any more…lazy and hangin’ at the very non-tropical islands…it’s not Jamaica, after all…..

Made day long drive back thru several of the mid-state mountain gaps on way home and worked on putting our proverbial house in order for the arrival of the post nuclear family on Thursday….TQ stayed home to fanatically clean, whilst I buzzed down the i-91 corridor to The Hartford, the pickup Tess, Sloanie and  great niece, Lena, Lena, Bo-Beena at the Big (for us) airport….made a stop to dawdle with Dr. Seuss  and lunch at the surprisingly hip Springfield , Mass and then bore a mostly cold and wet four days with jaunts to the Sparkle Barn, charming Woodstock shop (T and L only), hunting for late-season Creamees, multiple meal negotiations, mounds of wet leaves to jump in, Ramuntos, the Vermont Country Store, Ramuntos,  and a quaint trunk or treat event in Rutland..…either we kept Sloanie very busy or she kept us hopping-in-place…not sure which one….the birthday fairy (she just turned FIVE) visited daily (initially leaving her gifts for wake-up time- bur adjusting to only while we were out eventually- after Sloane  demonstrated her intent to be up at 6 am daily to greet the fairy) and NanaPapi also produced  brand new pair of flashing, noise-making roller skates that portend many calamities to come…..shuttled them back down to Albany on Monday, with Diner stop and finding a park to minimally rid the energy…though might have found one of the worlds’ great playgrounds with every kind of climbing apparatus, super-sized swinging devices and a zip line……all of it attracting the young and youngish adults as well as the kiddo…the post-airport drive home was VERY quiet….and led to  significant lie-downs once arrived….could say a lot more, but every picture tells a story, story….

Have I mentioned I got my ghost-symptom car back for the fourth time……after dealer had it four weeks and consulted with the striking Detroit experts..…pronounced cured….again….and next day all the error lights came back on and created the usual associated multiple problems…..scheduled to try again this week and get my Ferlin-dedicated loaner, but having my doubts and thinking maybe I can live with the flashing lights and related chaos…or need to visit the big boys in the Heartland….…trying to decide how to respond to the Jeep survey on my dealer experience,…they’ve TRIED….

No sooner had they all left, then I bore back down the mountains to Albany for a quick two-nighter in lovely Baltimore (85 degrees) for my re-invigorated Casey efforts at changing the world..…back in the  saddle again…..very bad at retirement…..stayed at the very chic Hotel Indigo in the wonderful Mt. Vernon area, with nations of diversity and associated restaurants, and had a god daylong meeting with an age group ranging from 22 to early 70s (guess who), and including our own  rainbow……dinner at a grand Ethiopian joint with my great nephew and budding sports magnate, Matthew…and then at the legendary afghan Helmand’s, owned by the self- lf proclaimed Brother of Karzai….it’s not Vermont anymore, Dorothy….am I really re-he re-entering the consulting world?

Got back late Friday and spent Saturday doing ready-to-bolt chores and then a dinner party (really, like in the movies) hosted by The Mad Scientist and the Self Proclaimed Trophy Wife…and featuring eight pieces of silverware at each setting……all under the protection of the biggest Harvest –Moon is recent memory…. signaling it’s time to leave?

Nuked our planned trip to Maine for this week…enough is enough……and now in the arrangin’, fixin’, plannin’ mode…walk a mile in our shoes, if you please….25 miles to go now…it’s late, it’s late…. gotta go, before the snow…

Enjoy the Autumn dwindle wherever you are….and make good hay…

Estuardo

Happy Indigenous Columbi Weekend:

“Endless is my vow under the azure sky-boundless Autumn” ……………………………………………………… Soen Roshi

“You’ll lose it if you talk about it” …………………………………………………………………………………Ernest Hemingway

“I’m not perfect, but I’m enough” …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Carl Rogers

All the schmooze that’s fit to print…………….

Back on the Train- together with Phish (look it up) we got back to some form of para-normal at first of week, no guest, no events, almost 80 degrees (ok, maybe not normal) and leaves starting to have a bit of pop and shimmer……got to gym, where again only person in ghost building……it’s the right time of the night…. TQ into The Mystic, as she gets on the Cider Daze train…and disappears for 12 hours at a time…still no lunch to be found in post-flooded Ludlow

COVID Winning here………Folk Club cancelled this week since everyone who went last week has The Plaque.…digging my masks out of the moth balls….no mas….no mas…

Alternative Music – sine no Monday folk club gathering……. I reluctantly aged to have The Old Vet Doc Who Can’t Hear come over and run through tunes for the Cider Daze set…hard to keep the beat when you can’t hear anything…. foghorn required……with giant flash cards for Braille- form lyrics

Trekking to Find Sister Jane- who made her annual visit this week, after years of lobbying to come for Cider week….trip to Manchester invoked every possible detour and roadblock and 30 MPH leaf-peepers at 8 in the am (don’t they sleep)…highlight was recently flood-reopened scenic Route 131 over to live and let die land, which is down to on lane in 4-5 places….and in one mile-long section has one lane because for there is only one lane!…..the other lane fell into the river and is yet to be found…..managed to only be 10 minute late (though she was 25 minutes early) and did the leisurely overland route through The Mounts home…with stop at folksy grinder place in lovely Puerto Nuevo…and lunch on the ground at the town Green…..followed by the requisite late season Creamee stop (only a B grade- but no complaints from Lucy)

Mountain High Culture Returns– in the form of the Manhattan Shorts film festival (if within  50 miles of a showing site, go see it –a must for film fans)….the annual selection the ten best 10-15 minute films in the world….at our tiny town library with a max of 30 people…which is astoundingly one of only 500 sites worldwide to show the Fest…….all during the same week…top pick for me was the one with a flower store owner with a bull-goose level stutter trying to communicate with Siri for directions…A++++….since Jane had been up for a long time, we only went to first half and left at intermission (Papi went solo for part two the next night)…we l all wore masks and got the dirty looks only potential  plaque bearers can get

Medicine in Rural Vermont– went down to Springfield Hospital –blink and miss it- for a routine scan…was out in 20 minutes ,start to finish….it’s like the gym….my own private hospital……though left my daily planer there, and made two poor employees search every part of the hospital for me when I got home and convulsed…then hunted down a tiny cheap 2024 planner at dollar store……changed all the dates to be 2023 accurate for last three months of year…and put in all my commitments…..then promptly found the missing planner in my car….thinking to blame scan radioactivity……you feel me?

On a Mission from God- put the band back together for Cider Daze—an assembling of six of the finest pre and post octogenarian area musicians for a one off garage band practice……despite Master Jeb consistently introducing us as “Stu and Crew” or “Stu and Friends”, we have now crowned ourselves the Cider Daze Pick-Up (though in a weak moment I had a notion to lobby for us to be “Stu the Shrew and the Wildmen”……this is unbelievably a real name from a 1965 incarnation…..)…like riding a bike (with training wheels) –on to the grove in minutes..…easily entertained, easily prepared…..easily tired out……

Papi and Sister Jane go to Rutland– having lost sight of The Queen for days now, Sister and I spent a lovely 80 degree Thursday afternoon exploring the finer elements of Rutland-life…..Ramuntos (of course), The Mart, Grocery and my new favorite Friday afternoon activity: picking up prepared Italian food at Paisanos, in the back of a beer store…..where I have tamed and befriended the grumpy lady Paisano…who now goes over the planned menu with me and gives me free bread……transport, heat and serve….Did I mention the mountain view when you walk out of the grocery……not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy…. Arrived back in Belmont just I time to get our free Creamees from the General Store in its first public event since closing last year…. OMG…Creamees returning to town…Creamees returning to town

The DAZE-after a week of worry, obsession and little sleep….TQ’s nightmare scenario arrived with a full day of pouring rain on Saturday…she was at The Green pounding the pavement and architecting The Cow Plop at 3 am…..and soaked to the gills when I arrived at noon…astoundingly, The Green was still packed with wet and stubborn Jerseyite leave peepers…..we set up shop in the library to play our set acoustically….and piped it out the Green via speaker…attracting a consistent flow of people coming to get dry…..the rain stopped for a few hours in the afternoon….and the collective Queen and Co. spirits refused to be dampened…..somehow creating lemonade out of cowshit……..

Dinner on the Ground– directly from the Cider downpour, we headed  over to The OddFellows to volunteer serve at the  annual Benefit Supper for the Fire Department….where we were the youngest  people of the crew (that is saying something) and served over 100 family style roast pork dinners to the wet and the hungry……I Iearned a few new things at the dinner: kids only want red desserts, Dennis the former Sate Rep and two-handed Coffee Purveyor never runs out of things to say, even very conservative rural old-timey Vermonters despise The Donald and you gotta watch for the guy who sits at four different tables and eats all-you-can-est dinner at each one…..the post serving dinner with the crew is a very mountain experience that should be filmed foe the Shorts festival….

So, TQ is off to the Daze again today……brandishing her sword at the head of the troops……sister Jane is sleeping off the carbs……and we will join later…….sun is out but it’s peaking at 50 degrees…we have maybe seen the last of 60 for October….…I remain-one joke over the line Sweet Jesus……

Love ya like a rock,

Ferlin’

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Good day:

“Sometimes, simply by sitting, the soul collects wisdom” …………………………………………………………………………………………………. Zen Proverb

“I would drive to West of Fargo just to see you once again” ……………………………………………………………………………………………. Ferlin’ Norris

“No seed ever sees the flower” …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… Ram Dass

Well it’s been a strange mix of a week here on The Mount. Fall surrounds us with cool days and chilly nights, the leaves are tumbling, though not filled with color and the leaf-peepers are abounding. We continued our barrage for Jenn’s six decades of birthday experiences with The Queen following up the last extravaganza at the Homestyle Hotel with a lovely dinner at the home of music friends the Capeists (not Papists), then a romantic dinner for two in the five seats only per night- Downtown Grocery in Ludlow, a top five Vermont chic eatery, where the menu in Sanskrit is only scribbled on the board, the price of one entree is more than a meal for two at most places we frequent and the hostess/front of the house keeper/sommelier brought out five bottles for tasting so TQ could decide for  having one glass of wine….and then proceeded to taste each one first to make sure they are still vintage-worthy….and then did this at  every table…how trashed is she by nights end?

Thursday night’s dinner got cancelled due to most recent Covid scare but Friday we went to an impromptu family comforts gathering (more later) and just got back from a delightful weekend getaway to our newest fave place- Troy, NY, where we stayed on the banks of the mighty Hudson next to row houses from the 1600s and wandered the streets of this wonderfully rejuvenated old industrial city that is the home of the very real Uncle Sam!  Wandered into a great Thai lunch, a cozy Eye-talian bistro dinner and a way off the path breakfast from Manna at a 4 by 4 neighborhood joint (Mumu’s) serving Mediterranean breakfast waffles- really!!!!. Who knew the culture mecca of Troy? All of this surrounded a concert at the Carnegie lite Troy Music Hall featuring the Weight Band reincarnating the sounds of THE Band to perfection. Stopped on way home to prepare for two sets of overnight guests for the beginning of our fall infusion, and picking up carloads of mums for the TQ Jones along the way.

After our guests leave this week we resume our barrage with a trip to the Adirondacks and weekend visits from childhood friends-and the beat goes on……all good for us…in a time of plenty.

But, there has been another side to this week and to the last month. One of our oldest and dearest friends, Penny, decided four weeks ago to quit medically fighting the ovarian cancer of 12 years. She has done the most courageous things-; eschewing traditional treatments for wild diets, herbs, trips to Mexican clinics and done well for a decade, before it returned a few years ago. After a round of chemo and a remission, it came back, and she decided enough was enough-taking advantage of Vermont’s constitutionally provided Act 39- which allows for death with dignity via self-medication. For the last three weeks we have surrounded Penny, and the family, from up close, gone through a mountain of goodbyes’, self-realizations, remembrances and resolutions. To be honest, I have never experienced anything like it- the courage, resolve, the level of self-responsibility, the outpourings of love to someone who has been the most beloved teacher in the history of this town, teaching four generations of elementary students with zest, extraordinary dedication and constant aplomb. Jenn I have had the enormous privilege of being part of the inner circle up to this past Tuesday when we said a tentative goodbye; Penny decided that Wednesday was time for her to leave. To say that this has affected and permeated the psyches of almost everyone in this community, is an understatement. It is a new experience to imagine how one should pass from this world and what the options are and what we should have the individual right to do at that decision time- being able to be surrounded by expressions of love, on your own terms and at a time of your own choosing. There is a lot to say about this, but I’ll leave it as a profound experience that is worth learning more about. We are left with a gaping hole of grief, but nothing was left unspoken. We love you, Penny!

                                                                                                                                                 

Penny Coldwell 1952- 2023

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…and the rest of the photos from the week that was:

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Dear Yentas:

“Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they’re falling like they’re falling in love with the ground.” ………………………………………………Andrea Gibson.

“Everything comes with stuff” ………………………………………………………………………………………………………You Know Who

“What you talking?” ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Mr. Kim

Well- it’s been an interesting week here in our hometown…THE POND is going away, the leaves are dropping, Green is less Green, and the nights are getting coder…. this is also The Queen’s BIG-ASS birthday week…. the start of birthday month……well, she is TQ, after all….

Started conspicuously with the planned two nights’ girl’s getaway with the BFF to THE Islands washed out due to Covid washing ashore in the BFF household.…which had even greater implications (foreshadowing here) ……

The nuked escape really hampered my master sneak attack birthday plans…. but made a bunch of excuses to disappear for major dinner making extravaganza shop on Tuesday afternoon…. then more sneak attack to hide all the goods at the fridge/cupboards in the Mt. Holly community center……and hope TQ did not get and urge to inspect her kingdom this week….

So the rest was just herding cats for major surprise birthday dinner on Friday…which involved last minute cancellations, additions, second thoughts, new emigres joining……and a host of cursing up a storm at the home office (read, closet)…..made it through with a nightly dusk walk on the dirt road panoramas with the little beast…and creatively hiding from various recruiting to go to Indiana counties trying to find me and convince me to come do some change work…..cant take any more 14 hour trips to get there…

So…(back to foreshadow) the BFF tested negative all week and again Friday morning, which enabled the erstwhile Former Empress of GE to lure TQ away with lies and deceit in midafternoon…..and allowed Papi to retrieve the goods, fend off 2 or 3 more blah, blah, blahs from the troubled party attendees…..and get home to clean and prepare in earnest…while having to deal with the last cancellation- who showed up in person and in distress to drop off her promised desert and beg off…amazingly she did this while I was holding a meat cleaver…well good riddance, I say…finders keepers- losers weepers…..and the carrot cake was really good as a door prize….at five pm the lades arrived , dropped off anonymously so as not to have any cars ins sight to give the shock value away…..all was good, notwithstanding having wacked off a tiny tip of my finger with the angry cleaver while cooking , setting the table, and making cocktails as they all arrived…they immediately all  had two of the special lemonades we picked up from the Bronx crew last week…and were pretty stuporific hiding in the living room and giggling , when The Empress and TQ waltzed in at 5:15 to a wailing surprise….TQ seemed genuinely shocked to see The Southie from up the hill, Mt. Holly’s most prominent Mother Figure and The Self-Anointed Trophy wife (that was all that was left after the quitters)…so all good, except they were already both looped from the afternoon distraction activities and The Empress immediately spilled the beans that she had made a quick trip up the hill to avoid coming home too early, and insure the surprise would be intact….…and ran in to The other Southie half who asked how the party was-immediately blowing the surprise…f….n’ Southies….

Of course, TQ was confused and still surprised, amazingly…so then I continued to force feed the gals buckets of the lemonade and set about making and servings the four course extravaganza……getting  them sufficiently  tipsy to have them all thinking I war he best partner ever…works every time….all in all a major success…..and BONUS…..as arranged, precisely at 5:45 almost all the kids, grandkids, extended family and dearest friends  all zoomed in simultaneously to sing Jenn a happy, happy…it was a moment….

So- despite multiple mountain traumas along the way….a success!!!!….and now onto the six decades of birthday experiences  which were to begin Saturday….but put back by an emerging tractor crisis…which the b’day gal pulled b’day privilege and insisted be fixed so she could mow our barely overgrown yard before anyone saw it…..so found a belt in town and had to convince the local mower guy to come over on a Saturday morning so he and I cod get this ridiculous belt on without taking off the deck…..and TQ could thus joyously mow her domain…in time for Feel et Maux to arrive for an overnight on their way to Maine…

After more lemonades, we had a loopy dust- walk up the hill and then on to dinner at the fabulous and juts post flood reopened Homestyle Hotel in Ludlow….for an onslaught of fart to table small plate culinary delights…which F&M very graciously treated us to for the birthday..…arrived home pleasantly sated and ready for our leftover desserts from the party to find the aforementioned carrot cake mysteriously missing from the kitchen table where we had foolishly left it…and tracked some crumbs to behind the couch in living room where our little furry housemate has dragged it off the table, chewed through giant sealed plastic bag, and aluminum foil covering to inhale most of the cake…luckily we still had the mound of birthday cupcakes…and Lucy again proved her immunity to getting sick despite her atrocious bouts of scandalous sneak eating…

Put the friends on the road early this morning after our famous country breakfast (highlighted by the garbage bag full of bagels they brought us for made in real-deal Jersey) ……so trying to catch up before the next onslaught of this week’s continuation of b’day activities –which include three dinners and a concert overnight…. but that is all for next week’s Bloggish……….

Gonna have some soup, soak the dawgs and get ready for dinner #1…….so be well, enjoy the falling leaves, sat in touch……

Tired Papi

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