‘This is the BEST of America”- John Manning

Fellow Wanderers:

Well, they, came, they conquered, they left…. Band went on the run this early Sunday morning –except for the Nave –who remained behind to catch some much needed Z’s and help with the aftermath. It was an extraordinary week with my good ol’ boys………………….

We got settled in last Sunday just in time for the Monday arrivals- Mitch with daughter Rachel and Granddaughter Supreme, Lil. Then Brother Al with his have- bass- will –travel- kit-from the land of Desantis, and finally The Nave after his long day’s drive, from the Heartland. We all made it to folk club on Monday night, which was quite the surreal event and The Bunties passed the musical baton around the sacred drum circle. Tuesday brought Brothers Phil (Jersey) and Johnny 99 (Outer Space) to complete the Bunty arrival contingent. We managed to find a bed for all with brothers Phil and al sharing some heavy duty quality time in the big cozy, king bed…you go, boys….

The week was filled with long dirt road walks, long hoe-down practices with our added local Vermont musical siblings, Marty, Amazing Mike, John and Fiddler Bob…all amounting to a giant Country and /Eastern orchestra.

We ate a lot, we drank a lot, we did other things we shan’t mention……and we played a lot of music…a lot of music.

After 2 practices we were primed for our first show on the Belmont Green, Thursday night. Got set up a-did a sound check, were mixed perfectly for a roving band of 10-11……… and just as people arrived for the splendor in the grass…the storm  from hell descended on us ……our first rain in over a month, and only for the hour we were to start playing-and-…………….only where we were -apparently with a thin line of major t-storm action,….leading to a frenetically berserk hour that had us scrambling to  find tarps and garbage bags for the electronics and a dozen of us huddled under the tiny gazebo, hoping for a pass, while indeed, we were the center of the hurricane….eventually succumbing to our higher power and giving up, moving our mountain of equipment into the library –sanctuary across the street. Wound up playing a truly inspired set of tunes to a tiny audience of around 20, who were wildly enthusiastic, once everyone got dried off.

After a day hiatus on Friday, we hit our stride at our 23rd annual Tie Dye to honor the retiring Empress of GE on Saturday, and amazingly, despite all kinds of threatening reports, it was just dam hot, but no rain. We did a wildly passionate three plus hour set, that had the local diva gentry dancing in the streets, that more or less made up for the Thursday debacle.

So- what did we learn this week:

  • People can actually live in our bunkhouse as Rachel and Lil proved
  • Long-boys can handle a week together in close quarters and still consider coming back again
  • Apparently (according to a source, I will not name), Indian people have legs to wobbly to ski
  • Sometimes smaller is better (sometimes not)
  • It is good to pay in sanctuaries
  • Plastic Jesus and Cardboard Elvis can live harmoniously
  • We should always be careful in invoking the Soggy Bottom Boys (see the pix)
  • The Queen is the absolute hostess with the mostest…and tireless
  • There is some benefit to having the Festival on someone else’s property and not have hosting duties, while getting appropriately, cosmically prepared for long music sets
  • We will never run out of set list tunes
  • Our Vermont friends are priceless and our local-musician buddies beyond compare

And the Bunties-Chops keep moving after 45 years…we are the Band of Brothers.

So- the opening quote from our friend, John Manning: as he was drifting away after the show at closing time of The Fest……in a feel-no pain state of clairvoyance-“Imagine that you’re driving down some dirt road, as you are wont to do, and you come across this thing……………………… you are doing” ………….…and you say…………………..…“WOW,….THIS IS The Best of America”

RIP-Sonny Corleone and Bill Russel- two great Godfathers……

Every picture tells a story, story……

Worn out in The Greens.

Ferlin’

Times A’ Flyin’ on The Mount

Greetings Earth-Mates:

“And, the gun that’s hangin’ on the kitchen wall dear….is like a road sign leading straight to Satan’s Cage” ……………………………………………………………………. Gram Parsons

Well, it seems like three weeks might be a long time to stay away from The Ramblin’, especially after just getting back to the story again, so a quick and dirty to keep us all in it the never ending loop. Really…. quick and dirty…. Believe!

Just got back from our whirlwind week in the Heartland yesterday and the prep week before is like a blur. Had the whole Mishpocheh (look it up) here for the first Sunday potluck dinner in a while- dinner on the ground with Plaque concerns longing. A veritable feast, highlighted by The Jewish Pig Farmer breaking the necks of several fat chickens and cooking them four different ways, and The Worlds Most Beloved School Marm, who does not eat sugar, making some only- in- Vermont mess of chocolate mousse with a conflagration of sweet fillings and berries, leading to immediate stupor upon consumption

On Wednesday of the leave prep week, we took Linda DD, the Empress of GE out to dinner in Proctorsville for her retirement- sittin’ on the deck of restaurant on the hottest day of the year- baking at 93 in the shade-and then to their music on the green, for three Dead wannabes, who had clearly left their earthly environs, to pursue their inner Jerry, Bobby and Pigpen…. Surreal but quite Dead-like- exceeding expectations………

Caught Music on the Green at ours (catch the little British affectation?) on Thursday with perennial hometown fav, Jeb and friends, in scouting preparation of our turn this week.

Bolted the Manor on Saturday for 12-hour jaunt with the two of us, and three loose animals, in the car, and back to Delaware (as if we never left) in time for dinner.

The rest of the week involved my doctor shit (all good)-  a regular part of life it seems, at some point……………… and a ménage of granddaughters: had Sloanie for two nights, took her up for an overnight with Quin-Lili and Harper in Cleveland that left us a shell of ourselves after 24 plus hours with a 2,3 and 5 year old , did a group outing with the Nave and Suba for Sunday night in the park music and KFC picnic (really) and got to baby sit Sloanie and baby Parker and play 300  rounds of treasure hunt in the back yard.

Easy drive back this weekend with overnight stop in usual Binghamton haunt-and no lost cats.

This is the start of music week here at the Mount. All of the Bunty Station/Steaks and Chops gang- past, present and future will be arriving today and tomorrow for our annul show on the town Green this Thursday and the 23rd Tie –Dye Fest this Saturday. By tomorrow we will have 10 people staying at the Manor, so will be quite cozy and bit wild week and a constant experience in herd moving….so gotta go get the homestead in shape before the invasion.

It’s gonna be a lotta love…….see you soon, , my friends with greater detail.

Stuber

Parched in the Greens

Friends and Countrymen:

“Clear moments are so short. There is much more Darkness”…………………………………Adam Zagajewski

“You may follow one stream. Realize it lead to the Ocean, but do not mistake the stream for the Ocean” …Jan- Fishman- Khan

“We’re gonna need a bigger boat” ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Chief Brody

Popcorn time……Popcorn time……Hot Buttered Soul    Itzhak?……..Isaac?……Moosac?……..It’s too late to turn back now…. I believe, I believe……

Goin’ with the short stuff this week………………………………Voila…………………………Ici……………………Aqui……………………………………………………

Green Perfection………could it be more Green in the Greens……as the day’s fly by, will we lose our grasp…or fuse it in the sun?……………………..75, sunny, zero humidity, 45 at night, blah, blah, blah……but, how dry it is……. the rivers are still…. The Pond shrinketh…. the grass browneth……the thirst non- quencheth……

Road Trip– overnight to the quiet of remote summer Marriott…. up the ancient Connecticut River Valley……rollin’ up the river, rollin’, rollin’…….layin’ low with VA affairs….. Mr. Titanium gets the grand suite…which ain’t much, but it is what it is……

White River Junction– in a cloud of excavation reminiscent of the dust bowl……little New England town hides from the inquiring mind……late afternoon sun ramble……cell phone photos…have you seen my phone?……people staring, what is that – a light meter?……an abacus?……Best ever gas station Chinese food…no English……no problem…. Sox on the tube……. chasin, chasin’….

Retreatin’………first live gathering in three years at majesty of Silver Lake State Park, Barnard……. Governors’ Peeps gather to make the world right……best ever back to earth pot luck…how many dishes can you make with chick peas, yogurt and tabbouleh……VERMONT……not live free or die……did everybody pre- test?.is the honor system still relevant…. show me the way……

PC or not PC– is “Justice” still  a relevant word……apparently may be offensive to those treated unjustly ……what dos Papi know….. …I still like the idea…you?

First Music on the Green at The Mount– towns first daughter Jenny Porter on a God-night on the square…. mediocre pizza from the curmudgeons at the General Store…. Yenta central…who is wearing what underwear tonight…..got the drop…..Jenny and Tony ended night with a Borat anthem, which had the Yentas up turning the Green into the Russian Steppe….…….

Middlebury run– not beginningbury, not endingbury……. seeing the semi-shaman for the tweaking…and the dispensary for the freaking……. drive back over the Brandon Gap…for da views…for da views……Made Ludlow for the Friday Market…for da meats…. for da meats……and quick stop at the Local library, so I can avoid being required to read the house supply…. called ahead and one of the Library Jills (they are all Jill) put bag o’ books out on back porch for me to grab after library closed for weekend…. VERMONT

Is there a Cretin amongst us? – apparently some out of state no-good hot shot has bought up four of the limited restaurant supply in Ludlow……and tho no one has met him, or know who he is…he is a BAD Man……Shame, shame, shame

Cardboard- in The Queens effort to suffocate every blade of grass on the homestead……and grow enough produce for the southern half of the state…. we have everyone on The Mount collecting cardboard for us, and will soon have enough to build a small flimsy summer house……

The Jamaicans Return– en force…. a dozen cars…60-or so people…several goats on a spit….and to the astonishment of the locals……one naked man of color bathing in the river along route 103……it’s a cultural revolution for The Mount…

Dinner on the Ground– hosting a Covid-challenging pot luck here tonight with the Jewish Pig Farmer, the newly retired Empress of GE, The Erstwhile Russian Spy and Worlds’ Most Beloved School marm, our local Reichland couple, and two people I have no categories for yet…but soon…. has the potential for a lot of yogurt…?……

So- may be down for a couple of weeks, as we head back for week in the late July joy of the Heartland next weekend……Got to see a man about a Johnson…let’s check the boys out again…I’m sure they missed this for last few months…. Well, at least we’ll see the granddaughters, the house, the kids and the band……………so there, Johnson Man!!! May stop in to DA Blog next week or you may have to just wait and JONES…. ya never can tell….

Bedtime for Bonzo……STAY GOOD in the HOOD………Lovin’ ya’ll………Ferlin’

My, Oh My…how Green it is………

Greetings fellow seekers:

“Only from the heart, can you touch the sky” ………………………………………………………………………………………Rumi

“When the resistance is gone, so are the demons” ………………………………………………………………………………Pema Chodron

“Da doo dah run run, da doo rah run” …………………………………………………………………………………………………. Leonard Cohen

Did you wake up yesterday in tepid anticipation, and slyly watch your inbox, only to lightly despair at the absence of The Blog Missive? Well……. Oops, there goes another one of those….

My deepest apologies, but hit the road at dawnish yesterday for a day on the water at Lake George…and had nuthin’ left post boat-coital……not the man I used to be……so, please accept the Monday edition as a weak replacement for all things Bloggish……. but, I get ahead of myself……and, since Monday, is sluggish/Bloggish to begin with, let’s try for mostly short -and occasionally sweet – this week……

July 4th was the expected rave up here at The Mount- got to see, the usual peeps on the parade route. The Queen and her followers had one of two grand floats for the all-time record short 3.5 minute parade….the whole thing is like an old Heinz commercial, but apparently word has spread here about my winter bodily functions- so had the pleasure of listening to no less than four EXTENSIVE prostate stories, the best (or most detailed)  from our former state rep, DD da DD, who is lost without a coffee pot to pour on your lap…From there it was sneak attack down to the West Rutland snack bar…one of the many you’d’- never -believe -the -food -they –ambitiously- serve at snack bars around the Greens………then we sought out our favorite Rutland inner city park hike, which is required , as in no hike-no snack bar…no squeegee….

Tuesday brought the long anticipated set of Deep Cleaners that TQ has insisted on…..ten woman hours later they had moderately finished 4 rooms…which I suppose are more deeply cleaned, tho I can’t really tell….maybe it’s a Zen concept…in any case, I can’t find anything since they left, which in itself is pretty deep….and the one savant -type woman, who occasionally seemed to be muttering “Wopner, Wopner”…..told us that we were a perfect match…which is probably the clear end point of 30 yrs. of therapy….whew, glad that is over…..

And how about that weather?….for Midwestern kiddies, having day after day be mid-high 70s devoid of humidity, and sweater nights…..must be “The Good Place”…..so we spent midweek obsessively grooming the grounds to Augusta specs…..got to use every power machine we own, and managed not to destroy any more of her majesty’s surprise plantings around the rocks….TQ is predicting a bumper crop of rock- blueberries…..in between each round of lawn perfecting, rumbled over to check on the status of the  mysterious well leak, which is startlingly pretty dried out now…in typical you-will- always –be- a-flatlander fashion- we have now consulted with 8 mountain experts  –none of whom have a clear answer…but consensus is …to ignore it…an answer I generally prefer (see the return-of- the –livin- dead refrigerator)…….so hopefully, when we have house full of band mates in early August, we may still have water and refrigeration!?!…….Have I mentioned that the aforementioned near-dead, astutely, hammered back to life  fridge, has now run perfectly for two weeks….

We had a midweek first- sighting visit from the Jewish Pig farmer, who busted in announcing marital woes between he and the Empress of Death….sad story and a bit overwhelming when awakened from late afternoon post-chores slumber, but am going to  spend a few Chinese dinners trying to lend chopstick perspective….Friday, TQ decided, was night for girls cocktail hour, so the longtime (and soon  retiring after 98 years on the job)Sweetheart of GE, the World’s Most Beloved School Marm and the TQ’s predecessor as the decades long Queen of Mt. Holly, gathered for drinks and nosh….which sent The Lucy and I scurrying to the Ludlow Farmers market, which was pleasantly quiet after the insanity of the previous week’s July 4th weekend market, full of Fat Jersey-ites and demented Connecticoats….we then hit the lovely Ludlow cemetery for twilight views and undisturbed walking and pooping  (both of us)….

Saturday was mostly another outside work day (are we done for the season yet?) after a trip to the dump produced the first ever apologies from The Dumpmaster for stating previously his availability to take my spot in the manor once I move to the other side. I told him, no offense taken, and wondered what did he think about our well drip?

And then yesterday was spent cruising up and down Lake George, with six thousand other boat- or- die types in a giant pontoon acquired by the Masseuse in the Trailer and hubby, Mike.…. picture perfect day, cool but invigorating lake water, sun on the verge of burn, but not quite ……………….and a nice drive thru the lower ‘Rondacks to get there…

And now. Monday, Monday…can’t trust that day……got to get back to healing the world with my virtual sessions…..considering a one off Marriott night midweek for all day retreat up north……might fill my anonymity jones for a bit……Be well, stay in touch, register to vote multiple tams in multiple states…..

Ferlin’

The Return of the Grievous Angels- Part 43

“Twenty thousand roads I went down, down, down-and they all led me straight back home to you” …………………………………………………………Gram Parsons

“Lying with his arms legs outstretched, how cool, how lonely.”……………………………………………………………………………Chora

“Along the seashore fall the waves, fall and hiss, fall and hiss.” ……………………………………………………………………………Izen

“The River is everywhere” …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Herman Hesse

My fellow Americanos:

We have outlasted the darkness of the past winter and climbed back up to The Mount (Holly, that is!), arriving this past Monday after no shortage of trial and tribulations……just in time for celebrating our nation’s birthday, which a lot of people may be struggling with celebrating at the moment……… given the recent assaults on liberty and freedom……. but…. I digress (or do I?) ……will undoubtedly come back to this…. but for now…. Well, the Blogster is BACK…so Happy Sunday to all…………………….

As most of you know, have been skirmishing with The Hated C Word this winter, but just finished six weeks of immunotherapy in Cowtown, and have discovered the wonder of broccoli sprouts, so very optimistic that all is on wellness track…tho the journey has not been without bumps………but, C’est La Vie say the old folks, you gotta know you never can tell….

The journey here last weekend proved its usual mystifying self. Hit the road without too much stress after two hour detour to find lost oil cap down that fell into wheel well of the car, then easy drive on fine summer day to our Usual in Binghamton…where we managed to lose our 15 year old, frail cat, Gracie May at the hotel while loading the car up to leave…after two hours of searching the property, Jenn found her having somehow never left the room, and she had got behind the unmovable bed and up into the mattress through a hole in the box spring……you can’t make this shit up….thought we were likely going to be doing Groundhog day with trying to leave town…..Despite all that- arrived in time for Drew Plumber-God  at noon on Monday…Drew has quit his father s business four times since we have lived here…aahhh….but the call of the pipes is just too grand….

Next traumas involved a dead fridge and leaky well…. but thanks to Papi’s remarkable talents with hammer therapy in precise places…the fridge is working good as new (for the moment) and the well is only leaking about 20 gallons an hour……and then…. UGGHHHH…. THE Pond, which looks like October rather than late spring/early summer……. where have all the waters gone…. a tale of two waters…way too much in the well, way too little in the drying Pond……

And…then…the neglected property, where thankfully- The Queen has eliminated  a third of our lawn to cardboard murder and prickly plants….she has little mini- surprise plantings in rock surroundings all over the place….one of which was apparently a flock of green onions….that is no more after Papi took to the Whack Job……Tears of Rage?………..and how about the Japanese Knot Weed….this is a thing/who knew……..and our driveway is almost closed off from Its overhang…….is this some form of macabre climate change ordeal?……………..The Yard has been field mowed by Old George, which works well for a meadow, but led us immediately back to the machines…and a lot of raking……………….The Country Jew shockingly had another successful opening campaign with all power machines up and running after an hour….….and despite a zillion mouse turds everywhere……We did have Linda’s boy, Young Dustin, generously come down and push mow around The Pond, to get down the five foot weeds, before our return….and both he and the mower wound up in The Pond….a first in recorded town history…..

By Wednesday, we were overflowing with gar-baj, and recyclables so headed out to see the Dumpmaster and friends, who was very concerned with my health, and insisted for us to make a plan for him to move in with The Queen once I have moved to the next plane…..very touching…..tho not as touching as my return to Monday night music at folk club, and the resulting sustained round of applause as I walked in for the first time……humbling and bit weepy. We got to get back on the horse with our routines when not totally overloaded with getting re-settled so late in the season…….Went for massive grocery shop (how ‘bout them prices, boys and girls?)….and stopped at the beloved Ramuntos for slices…..but they were closed- apparently hung over from the day before’ s office summer party…..so had to settle for carb-friendly three foot grinder from Gill’s Deli…..

Saturday marked our first outing…after getting The Pond Irrigation Extravaganza up and running….headed out to Rutland and Brandon…..finally getting the Ramuntos Jones fulfilled, hitting a trio of used appliance stores (TQ has no faith in Papi-Repairs) -none of which had any used appliances…then on up to Brandon for their holiday reopening of the downtown area, which has been in repair disaster mode for ten years…..hit a couple of silent auctions….I bid bit on something, but cannot talk about it (Silent!), an ultimately found a really nice dirt road for spending warm/no humidity summer walk up a mount…with only the relentless black flies for company……

So, here we are…….me and you and you and me, the way they tossed the dice it had to be…. TQ is out reclaiming her throne in town and prepping the float for the six-minute parade tomorrow and later we are planning a trip down to Garden tour sign hanging and Sausage Manna in Londonderry………

It’s good to be back…..though dealing with major jonesing of missing granddaughters and time that cannot be replaced…….but still……you I have missed. Be well, stay calm an carry on.

Papi

Stu’s Reviews- #648- TV Series – “Annika”- PBS – 1 Season

Genre: TV Series   

Grade: B+

Notable People: Nicola Walker, Jamie Sives, Katie Lunge, Ukweli Roach Created by: Sarah Solemani

Title: Annika

Review: Based on the popular Scottish, Annika Strandhed novels, this PBS Masterpiece entry stars the wonderful Walker (Unforgotten, Last Tango in Halifax) as the very in-over-her head newly minted leader of the Glasgow Marine Homicide Unit. Walker is alternately imbecilic, brilliant and hilarious with her mismatched team of investigators. Another in a long line of BBC DI- somethings, it’s worth the watch and promises a second season.  

Last Dance 2021

Good morning and “Wakey, Wakey…. hands off Snakey” (Rake):

“When fear is finished, there are no more problems to be resolved, only life to be lived” ………………………………………………………………………………………Michael Kewley

“Sudden the cold airs swing. Alone, aloud. A verse of bells take wing. And flies with the cloud.” ……………………………………………………………………………. Alice Meynell

“I’ll get the Last Train to Tulsa, right before the snow….…. if you ever need a ride there, be sure and let me know” …………………………………………………. Neil Young

Slow down, you move too fast…. gotta make the morning last……. blah, blah, blah……Feelin’ Groovy………the hoar frost arrives each morning……. the last browns and oranges hang on for dear life on almost bare trees……warmish rain turns to brittle sunshine chill……………dark, dark, darkness…… begins its ascent in middish afternoon………must be time to go……lift your wings and fly away……to the land of the corn and wheat…..time to go….

One more rainy Sunday led us out after multiple days sequestered at home……to a last drive down through the quaint villages……East Wallingford, Weston, Londonderry, Stratton…. last of the fall colors with moments of retro brilliance….on to the Kings of Sausage at Honeypie……then the ghost town walk at Hapgood Pond…where Lucy goes so bat shit crazy to be on her beloved trail, that she somehow loses her harness…..how can that happen?

Mr. O’Bleary’s Cow………lives up the road at Dennis the Drunk’s house……a pathetic, skin on bone creature that brays at the moon in midday, which really confuses Lucy………this the most recent in a yearly effort to fatten a bulimic bovine for winter food stock….by the time he has the poor Elsie slaughtered……….2-3 meals at most, my guess.

Found a new mountain car repair place………Chris is down in Clarendon and changed my oil for a third of the price of the chains…….in his little garage behind a freewheelin’’ church on a dirt road………no receipt, no tax, just a hand shake (very dirty hands) with the mountain man mechanista……

Got The Bullfrog- Pond Blues- usually more than ready to leave the oozing-out, declining, evaporating Pond behind by this time of year…. when all efforts to keep it near the brim have failed……But Not……look at that puppy……as if it had just filled up from the winter snowmelt runoff……where are the men that I used to sport with?

Friday was cold but very sunny, so off for our last drive- walk adventure…..across the great Connecticut to the “Live Free or Die”  and “We Love the Trumpster” province……mostly because the live free nutcakes are also tax free and have no six taxes……so a big ass bottle of fine bourbon for the road, at half the price….and then stop at the quirky Hungry Diner in Walpole……for last dine outside in the sunshine experience……great place, creative comfort cuisine….but when you get the bill it is always more than you thought…..finally figured out they are levying an additional tax for “livable wage for their employees’…..which I support in theory, but wonder who should pay for…..though clearly all who work there have drunk the cool aid….so guess it works..

And speaking of “lasts” …. made the trip down the hill last night to Rut-town for one more glorious Chinese extravaganza at our beloved “East” ……. went gloriously out of the box with our fist Pu-Pu Platter in a decade…. will miss our corner/window Sunday night table……. anyone care for rituals?

And speaking of lasts, number two……Having our first, last and only supper gathering of the year tonight……to bid farewell to a bunch of our closest peeps on The Mount…..The Erstwhile Russian Spy, The Worlds Most Beloved School- Marm, the empress of General Electric, The Masseuse in the Trailer, and her partner, The King of Snow Machines…….will all be here…..which means one last ridiculous housecleaning (TQ has rules about this)….and hiding all the detritus of getting packed to leave (more TQ rules)….there’ll be a whole lot of shakin’ goin’ on……

I imagine I’ll see TQ sometime before the dinner guests arrive though at the moment she is out in the countryside flirting with the Dumpmaster, dropping off at plant daycare, looking for more pine trees to randomly dig up, mulching her heart out, all over the land….and generally presiding as the town angel and Her Majesty of the Lake…………. people may not notice that I have left…. but TQ will be missed…….

So…. off Thursday for The Heartland…. Now it’s time to say goodbye to all our family…M-I-C…see ya real soon….K-E-Y…why, because we love you…………stay very well and keep in touch….might drop a Blog-Bomb or two during the winter….but who knows….

We’ll be back!

Papi-san

Where Have All the Flowers Gone

Greetings Fellow Travelers:

“Let me say it again: the present moment is all you ever have” ………………………………………………………………………………………………Eckhart Tolle

“It’s a marvelous night for a Moondance” ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. Van Morrison

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers” ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

It’s been a chilly, wet week here on The Mount. The leaves are almost all down; stick season is reaching full swing here in The Greens. People start to disappear in that grey time between Autumn and Ski Season. Is this a time of ending? beginning? A little bit of the loss of innocence along with the sunlight. Does anyone really embrace Daylight Savings Time?

We have begun the process of shutting down the homestead in anticipation of flying the coop on the 11th. The tchotchkes of our lives begin to disappear from the barn, the yard, the house……. driftin’ away with the leaves. But…….one last gasp this week took us up to the shores of Lake Champlain for our annual trek to the Islands of Vermont and Grand Isle……where lo and behold, the Lake Effect provides a late lasting, stunning array of Fall bounty on the shore outside our little cottage on what should by all measures, be a Great Lake.

Rituals……gotta love them….and we have developed quite the routines over many years of traipsing around the Northeast. Does anyone really believe there are Islands in Vermont? A quick two- hour plus trip takes us from the pastoral rolling hills and dales to the hidden wonders of large bodies of waters. Had the requisite stop in Brandon at the Café Provence bakery for breakfast and sweets loading, then up and around the fair metropolis of Burlington and across the bridge to the quaint Island environment and culture that is always a bit of a mystery …. lake cultures……a fascinating way of life, no?

Goin’ home, goin’ home….by the waterside I will rest my bones……Listen to the river sing sweet songs….and, rock my soul.

The Island trips are a quiet blur with hardly anyone around and many stores and restaurants closed up…. the magical wonder of a beautiful place left behind by the tourista hordes of summer. Not really a  lot to do if you are pursuing activities: the usual jaunt to The Dunes , a few long hikes in the woods, gazing at the lake sunset through the glass cottage doors, the laps of the waves in bed at night….then there is the middle-of-nowhere, dirt road little Happy Bird Smokehouse, for their smoked chicken pot pie and spicy ribs to cook up ala cottage…..the little, but mighty, Alburg store for their bread and soup and munchies, the hipster bakery for bagels and bialys…..and the hidden orchards for the bull-goose looney of all Cider doughnuts…a world unto itself……remote charm with TV and WI-FI ….what’s not to love?

Not a lot else went on this sticky-week:

The Queen has now moved half of the mulch and most of the hay storage to the project de-la- obliterating of any yard grass.

Three year old Sloane did her first trick or treatin’ and TQ got skeletoned up to do our local Trunk or Treat………that is TRUNK with an “N” …. not an “M”.

We did a portal with Quin-Lily that expanded to five bedtime stories- at this rate we will be doing all-nighters by the time she is eight

The Dumpmaster and his crew wept openly at TQ not making the run for the third consecutive week….”is the little missus just laying’ round the house all naked?”

We both got our Moderna booster jabs on the way home from Island hopping, so ready to tackle the heartland and it minions.

The Prodigal has fully abandoned cash, and is now carrying around bags of crypto tokens.

The politically incorrect Atlanta Braves are whipping the Texas-cheaters in the Series.

The do-gooders are putting measures on town ballots around the state to tamp down the development of retail cannabis in our legal state.

When the winds come down on your one light town, can you look further on than you see? I’m an all-night singer in a rock and roll band, I’m just sittin’ on the edge of being free.

And, that, has got be all she wrote, Dear john…. just send my saddle home.

Papi of the Woods

Those Damn Sticks….in Jazz

Allo, Allo:

Well, it’s been another slow week at Mount LeavesBeGone………………………………………the leaves slowly tumble through the hazy filtered sunlight…………………………the sticks re-emerge in the woods…………………………………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………………nights approaching the 20s……seventy degrees a thing of the late lost summer……Gone with the Wind………how does it feel?……to be on your own……See the sap lines dot the woods like one giant spider web……people are strange….where have they gone?………….bracing for the next phase of mountain life……Kerouac, Ginsberg, Snyder, Ferlinghetti, blasting in my mind, from a million nights past…………………………think I’ll pack it in, and buy a pickup……………………………mountain time nears an end……….one last hoped- for- gasp pf Autumns’ splendor as we drift up to the Islands of Lake Champlain this week

Leaves, Leaves, Leaves……Pond, Pond, Pond……haul that bale…..Truckin’, down in New Orleans……help me, I think I’m fallin’……Ticks, ticks, ticks……spread the Doxycycline anti-Lyme miracle to bitten friends….the beasts are everywhere….look out, look out…………….the Candyman, here he comes….and he’s gone again….….Dumpmaster cries “don’t go”….or at least leave the missus…..what about all the mulch and cardboard….can the land yet become one large garden of rocks and blueberries?….sixty nine years of American Dreams……..ugghhhh…..Where are the men that I used to sport with?…..

Baseball has been berry, berry good to me……Sox have fallen to break the pioneer hearts of the great Northeastern Tribe…..autumn winds and baseball…..Amerika!………trippin’ solo to Middlebury- town to see the second coming of the shaman…crunch, crack…………aahhh……..how long have I been waitin’ for you, how long have you been on yer way………..Work, Work, Work……we gotta get outta this place, if its the last thing we ever do………..retirement memo apparently missed……Zoooooooomm…….where are the old dogs to teach new trix…………..New woods to ramble….out in the Mendon Orchards way……..Buenos’ Burritos……yes, yes, yes……….Johnson, Pfizer, Moderna….gotta jab me up…yeah jab me up….yeah, jab me up…..how much is too much?..

The sun is out; the Barn awaits……. Dear Prudence, won’t you come out and play-ay……the woods are lovely dark and deep, but miles to go before I sleep, miles to go before I sleep……

Friend of mine goes to hospital to get checked out……passes room with a guy masturbating……asks the nurse what is up with that…. she replies that the patient has rare condition and has to do it every hour to avoid symptoms…. shakes his head, continues down the corridor…. passes another room where nurse is going down on the patient…. catches the nurse and asks what about that…. nurse says same condition, better insurance……

Ta-Da…. oh my……that’s the end……

Papi-San

Fall Unwinding

Feliz otoño:

Maybe it is the winding down of Autumn in the mountains, or the incessant dropping of nature’s majesty signaling the foreboding of winter……. or the re-appearance of our Route 103, clearly visible over the ridge after its total invisibility during the leaf months of April thru October……. but I am finding myself, inexplicably, at a relative loss for words this week. Not total mind you…. just relatively.

So- back to the basics…. THIS I what I learned this week:

It takes about eight hours to mix two studio recordings…and is harder than it seems.

The Queen lives…. she has reappeared after her month long Cider Daze absence……and is back digging up the yard.

There is almost nothing better than a Sunday night family dinner at our beloved East…with the Nave.

Marty, the Retired Vet, cross between Mitch Miller and Burl Ives (much dated folkie reference) ……Bull Goose Curmudgeon -lives on a magnificent quarry outside Chester…. a long overdue visit.

Going to Quebec, which we had considered doing again this week, is still hard to figure out…clearly, with great lodging prices available, the Canucks are eager to let you in……but not so clear the US Border-Plaque Busters, are all that willing to let you back…

Number two granddaughter, Sloane Michael, turned a hard-to- believe three years old this week.

When all else fails, we head to the Northeast Kingdom (yes, that a real thing) for an anti- tourisme- leaf peeing adventure.…which we did for the past three days. Had the usual Kingdom suspect highlights: one breathtaking cornucopia of color after another, bumping over a hundred sacred dirt road highways only found in remote Vermont, deep northern lakes surrounded by the bounty of Autumn’s plate of hues, possibly the worlds best fried chicken dinner at Martha’s Diner in Coventry, the splendid Boulder Beach in the Green Mountain National Forest, the requisite drive- by at our old digs and stomping ground in Groton, the majesty of mist driven, early morning at Island Pond, hip downtown Newport on the American shore of Lake Mempheregog,  the secret Amish lost community (and its baked goods) in historic Brownington, the lovely deep autumn beauty of Lake Willoughby…..piddling all over the great kingdom from our little airbnb shack in someone’s backyard in tiny Nurk (Newark) Vermont…..

All too good to be true….too real to be fake……too much too early…………too, too, too……

And the rest…. well…. every picture tells a story…so take a look…

Love and joy to the world……. Tired Papi