Going Off-Homestead

I deliberately chose to ignore my weighty list yesterday to go hiking up a mountain.  In retrospect, I may have been suffering from delusions of youth.  It was ... are you sitting down? ... a date.  It involved breathtaking vistas, a picnic I did not have to pack, interesting conversation, and a mini-concert at the end.  It also involved mostly uphill trekking, long patches of mud, a million rocks, and MILES of trails.

This is why it was all worth it:

View at the trail head

Looking West from the mountain.

Nature's chimney

Entrance to the Snow Hole

There were lots of points where the scene laid out before us was breathtaking.  Unfortunately, my breath was already being taken up in panting gasps - which I valiantly tried to cover with coughing, pointing my camera and pretending to take a picture so I could recover.  The trail was on the NY/MA border - I believe it's the Taconic Trail.  Much too late, I discovered that my hiking companion thinks nothing of hiking the trail from his house (in Pownal, VT), all 26 miles to this point.  Had I known, I would have cited an old football injury and done a more sane hike.  But, all in all, it was a lovely day.  Plus, he knew all the native plants and trees, could give me the Latin names for the various fungi we encountered (while I sagely nodded and said, Um hum.)

I barely made it home in time to do chores and meet the nice young woman who bought my beloved Lulabelle.  She raises and shows goats (plus), has chickens (plus plus), loved Lulabelle's bumper stickers (plus, plus, plus), was recently separated (boo) and has two adorable children, no car and limited funds.  It was a perfect match.  We worked out a payment schedule and her brother drove Lulabelle off to her new home.  Plateless.  I love these country folks.

My day was perfectly ended by some companionable knitting with my friend, Melanie, accompanied by a bowl of dark cherry ice cream, a Gluten Free shortbread cookie, and a nice mug of tea.

Retromusing

Yes, I made that up.  Because I can.  I love the Power of Blog. 

I was sitting in the office the other day, thinking back to 15 years ago, when I moved up here from The City.  I cannot believe it was 15 years ago.  Of course, neither can I believe I am over 40 - but we won't go there.  Some of the early highlights of my life North of the Center of Civilization (or so they say) were:

Leaving a package on the bus (I didn't have a car), realizing I had done so after I got to the office, calling the bus company, meeting the same bus with a different driver on its next round - where the driver stopped, got off and handed me my package.

Standing at the bus stop waiting for my home bound bus and noticing a big, burly guy in a football jersey, blue jeans, pantyhose and high heels.

Going on a meet/greet first date with a guy who tossed a baby seat in the back of the car, told me he wasn't married and didn't have kids, drove to a cheap beer joint, got out of the car and headed for the door (without checking to see if I was out of the car), went in (without holding the door open for me), surprisingly, did NOT ask for separate checks, and then the first question out of his mouth was:  "If I came home really late and you had made dinner for me, would you be pissed?"  My answer was:  "No.  Because I will never be anywhere you are, dinner made or not."  End of date.

My cats, Tippet and Woody, lying on their separate windowsills in my glorious apartment - looking out of the windows at bushes and birds, instead of Brooklyn rooftops.  My first home here was in a beautiful, 70 year old apartment complex that was built in the English Tudor style - with hardwood floors, high ceilings, and a working fireplace.  If anything went wrong, it was fixed the same day.  I could use that now - where is the maintenance crew when I need them?!

Buying a car over the phone - a used Geo Metro - and having the dealer send someone almost an hour south to pick me up and bring me to the dealership to get it.

Driving the same car way north to spend an entire day taking kayaking lessons - after doing nothing more strenuous than dodging traffic and subway rats for three years.  I was so tired driving home, I was shaking.  And slept the entire rest of the weekend.

Opening my first paycheck and realizing I had taken a 50% hit in my salary.

It was totally worth it.

From Apples to the Apples of My Eye.

Saturday dawned as the perfect day to go apple-picking with a carload of gal friends.  We go to a local orchard in Massachusetts - our local can range from NY to VT to MA.  This orchard is along the mountains (the charming fellow who was directing cars said they were the Appalachians - I'd have to check) and the views on a day like Saturday are glorious.

I went with L and her sister, AM, and our friend N.  L's sister (as is L and N) is from downstate - she lives in the City.  And she is a chatterbox.  N and I finished up ahead of them and, as we sat at a picnic table waiting for them, we could make out their progress by the sound of AM's voice, going up and down the rows.  It was a lovely, fun morning.

When they dropped me off, I hit the ground running, as I had my sister and her son staying with me that night.  I swept up a badger-sized wad of cat/dog hair (Why is it that none of them are bald as an egg?  They should ALL be!), cleaned both bathrooms, the kitchen, my bedroom, the guestroom, did my chores, and got presentable.  We were all going to converge on my parents' house to celebrate my mom's 90th birthday.  It was an interesting and diverse group - and it was the first time in a loooong time that we had all been together.  Dinner was at my mom's favorite restaurant - which happens to be mine as well.  A wonderful time was had by all.

So my day started with apple-picking and ended with the Apples of My Eye.

Where, oh, where, can my little banty be?

There she...used to be!

I am impressed.  The little dickens JUST started laying - and she's already made herself a dandy little nest and got busy.  And broody.  I had the worst time finding her - I looked all over and discovered her in the rhubarb bed, hunkered down over her not-so-little stash.  Unfortunately, we are not wanting baby banties now (or ever), so she was unceremoniously hauled off the nest and put in for the night.  I put a feeding tub over it and will spirit them off when she's not looking.

Happy Birthday to My Wonderful Mother!

My mom hit the big 9-0 today!  She is so amazing - still beautiful, still going strong.  Love you to pieces.

Mom and her brother, my Uncle Jimmy.

That's why there are laptops, Dear.

What I walked in to this morning - a massive water leak.  What is not in view - all the sodden files that were on my desk.  Sigh.

How to raise Escargot without really trying.

We were blessed with ONE nice day so far this month.  And not many last month.  Or the month before.  I had allowed myself to be drawn into the web of lies that is our local weather forecasting, and had looked forward to a productive weekend.  It is always better if I can spread my voluminous to-do list over two days, as opposed to one.  Because (shockingly) there are only 24 hours in one day and I do need to sleep an hour or two.

It was not to be.  Friday: Wet mist and overcast.  Saturday: Wet mist and overcast.  So Sunday it was boots on the ground and flat out.  Today was supposed to be sunny.  Monday:  Wet mist and overcast.  But it wasn't a total loss.  Imagine my delight in discovering that here, all along, I have been raising a surprise 'crop'.  That's right - Call me Frenchie and dip me in Merlot.  I've been raising Escargot!  I have very thoughtfully provided them with a large bed of delectable kale, while Pa Nature has kept them nice and moist so they can slide around with ease: munching here, munching there. 

I wonder if I can sell the locals on home preserved, free range, organic, natural, humanely raised escargot.

Non?