When we had checked into the Holiday Inn the night before, the front desk clerk had given us the heads-up that the ferry we had booked to get to Mackinac Island was down two boats.
“They’ll probably send you over to a different ferry,” she said.
Okay, no problem I thought. And since Lynn and I were both familiar with the difficulty of finding a parking spot near popular summer island destinations (Fire Island and Martha’s Vineyard in particular), we mentioned we would walk from the hotel to the ferry.
The thought of walking apparently made the desk clerk very nervous since she immediately reached below her desk and handed us a piece of paper. I looked down and saw that not only was there the phone number of a taxi service to call, but also the phone number of a shuttle bus that was sponsored by one of the ferry companies in case we needed a ride.
Lynn and I looked at each other and shrugged. It was less than a half hour walk from the hotel, but I guess too far for her.
The Ferry Ride
We woke up to a gorgeous sunny day with not a cloud in the sky. We started walking over to the ferry terminal not sure what to expect. Even though I had booked tickets online, in advance, the tickets were open-ended. Meaning you can use them any day and any time. The problem is that I had booked tickets for the fast boat, and it was exactly that boat that had broken down. So, we got in line and waited with everyone else.
The first boat that pulled up looked like Johnny Depp was going to be on it. Yep, it was a pirate-themed boat. Right then and there I decided that this would not be the boat we would be on. Apparently, others around me (mostly with age-appropriate children in tow) insisted that taking this boat would cut down on the travel time to get to the island. Plus, wouldn’t it be fun? I decided to wait until the next ferry arrived.
I had always wanted to visit Mackinac and see The Grand Hotel. I wasn’t expecting the turquoise-colored water that day that surrounded our voyage to the island. Or the picture-postcard view of the hotel towering above everything else upon our approach. Dare I mention that the pirate boat did in fact pass us as we meandered across the water?
Mackinac Island
Forty-five minutes later, we arrived on the island. Since it was still too early for lunch (thinking we would grab something at The Grand Hotel), we start exploring. We walked up to the fort and decided not to pay to go inside. Instead, we walked up a pretty steep hill and got our view. There we saw both Round Island Passage Light (the column shaped light in the photo below) and the quaint Round Island Lighthouse.
After walking up the hill, we walked back down realizing we had missed the town entirely. While I had been prepared for the horsedrawn carriage rides and bicycles, I was not prepared for the amount of people who were visiting (on a Tuesday, no less). I was also not prepared for the many, many angry teenagers I witnessed who even that early in the day (before noon), were already complaining that 1) they were tired; 2) they were hot); and 3) that their parents were “torturing” them with all the walking. I will mention that at least 75% of those who were complaining were more than a bit overweight.
I also didn’t realize that one of the main attractions on Mackinac was the consumption of fudge. According to the Mackinac Island Tourism Bureau, there are 13 fudge shops on the island, and it’s even touted as the “fudge capital of the world!” Still, I was surprised that nearly everyone I saw that day was consuming fudge, or ice cream, or both. I sighed and told Lynn that we’d have to eat lunch first and then consider buying some fudge to go.
We kept walking and tried to get away from the throngs of tourists. We headed towards streets that were less crowded and admired the houses, many of them B&B’s or Inns. The houses were beautiful. And look at the flowers!
We made our way towards the rocky shoreline and looked at the water. We even collected some rocks to take home. We had only seen Lake Huron once before when we drove up to Tobermory, Ontario, in 2017, but this view was pretty.
The Grand Hotel
We walked up the road to the hotel. There were flowers everywhere and the hotel is very grand. After ignoring the sign that requested a $12 fee per person to walk around the property, I went up to the front desk and inquired about lunch. Turns out you have to pay the fee to even step into the dining room where lunch ($77 per person) was buffet style. Everyone who knows me knows I avoid buffets like the plague. Still, I managed to get some photographs of the interior of the hotel. It looked old but plush. There actually weren’t a lot of people milling around (guests, that is) but I did feel a bit like I was trespassing.
Here are a few shots. This living room had a very pronounced Wes Anderson vibe to it. (Think The Grand Budapest Hotel.) And the porch area was spectacular. Everything was very clean and looked well cared for. Which I guess is the point if you are staying there since rooms START at $359 per person/night.
I mean look at all the geraniums. And the balconies!
Lunch at the Jockey Club
We decided to grab lunch at the Jockey Club, a restaurant that overlooked the golf course and the hotel. As soon as we sat down, I noticed something was amiss. Every single one of the servers was black and only serving white people. Most, I assumed were there on H-2B guest worker visas and they all wore a name tag with a number after it. When I inquired from our server what the number meant, she told me it was the number of seasons they had worked at the hotel. (She was on season 3, but her co-worker, an older man, was on season 25.) There’s more I can say about this topic, but I won’t because I can’t really wrap my head around it. I know seasonal hotels such as these have an enormous problem finding help especially if you are on an island that is difficult to get to. That said, it appears that many of the staff members were from Jamaica. I would like to assume that if they didn’t like working at the hotel, they’d find another seasonal job someplace else in the States. And, when I got home, I made sure to read some of the reviews on Indeed about their employer. Most of the complaints focused on staff meals and accommodations rather than pay.
Even with our discomfort, I will say that while lunch was expensive (but way cheaper than the buffet), the swordfish sandwich that Lynn and I both had was absolutely delicious. Was it worth it? Probably not. Did I regret going there? A little.
Time for Fudge
After lunch, we walked into Murdick’s Fudge shop which claims to be the oldest fudge store on the island. After all, we had to at least try the fudge, right? $14 later, ONE large slice of chocolate walnut fudge was purchased. We nibbled on it standing outside the store and I have to admit it was good.
Back on the Ferry
We managed to take the “fast” ferry back but had to sit below deck. While this trip was a mere 16 minutes, the boat was packed, and I was worried about being in an enclosed space and catching something. Pneumonia? Another strain of Covid? Especially since the woman next to me was coughing the entire time. Lynn’s eyes kept getting bigger and bigger with each passing moment and the minute the boat docked, we got off quickly.
Dinner Later That Evening
There weren’t many dinner options (in my opinion) in Mackinaw City unless you wanted a burger or fried food. Therefore, on our second night, we ended up at The White Buffalo Bar and Grille. They had lots of fish on the menu (including walleye and whitefish), and a decent wine list.
When we arrived for our 7:30 dinner reservation, there was one server trying to handle two huge rooms. I wasn’t sure if she would be able to pull it off (especially since we were surrounded by large family parties), but she got us drinks, wine, and a platter of whitefish each in record time. Was the fish the best I’ve ever eaten? No. But I discovered that restaurant prices in Michigan were running about $20 less per entree than in New York and sales tax is only 6%. So, while the food wasn’t mind-blowing, at least it was affordable.
Final Thoughts
I’m glad we visited the island even though I was dismayed by the tourists, the fudge overload, and the people who have to journey so far from their own home to earn a living. Although it’s been over two weeks since we were there, we still haven’t finished the chocolate fudge we purchased! (It’s sitting in a box on our kitchen counter waiting for us to at least take a bite. Shameful, I know.) But perhaps looking back at our “step” count, we should have just eaten it all that day. I wonder what the Holiday Inn clerk would have thought of the 9.1 miles we clocked that day. Or an irate teenager?
Tomorrow we are heading up to finally see Lake Superior!
Lake Superior was the only great lake we had never seen. We weren’t planning on going to see the “last one” this summer, but when I researched going back to Maine and the Eastern Townships area of Quebec, those areas proved to be prohibitively expensive. So, a trip to Ontario, and the Upper Peninsula area of Michigan seemed a more affordable option.
Since I was celebrating a birthday and didn’t want to spend all day driving on my birthday, we decided to leave the day before. This way (we hoped) we’d have no issues crossing over the border into Ontario in the morning. Why was I so considered about border traffic? Because I had a lunch reservation at a winery that I didn’t want to miss.
Old School Cafe, Naples, NY
Our first stop though was lunch in Naples, NY. The Old School Cafe, right on the main road, had been on my “to do” list for a while, and it didn’t disappoint. But has anyone ever seen me post a picture of a waffle? The answer to that is NO. Even my daughter, Rachel, was alarmed that my first meal of our trip was something I never make, order, or eat. I just don’t eat waffles.
I’m not sure what possessed me that afternoon, but suddenly I wanted something different. Something sweet and something savory. Therefore, The Old School Cafe’s special that day, a buttermilk waffle topped with Korean spicy chicken, was definitely a hit.
On the way from Naples to Medina (where we were staying for the night), Lynn happened to mention a Louis Kahn church in Rochester that he had visited once in college. Could we detour he asked? Of course, I said yes, and luckily, it wasn’t even a detour, but a mere two minutes from the highway we were already on.
Louis Kahn in Rochester
The First Unitarian Church of Rochester was completed in 1962. The building was closed so we weren’t able to get inside, but we did walk around the entire structure. Was it the ugliest building I’ve ever seen? No. Here’s a photograph of it anyway.
Medina, New York
We had been to Medina a few years ago and had stopped for lunch. It seemed like a quirky town with a couple of decent restaurants and even some boutique-type hotels. Since Medina is only an hour away from the Canadian border, it seemed like a good choice since there was a restaurant there that I had my eye on, too.
Downtown Medina is small. You can walk both sides of the street in under 10 minutes and find yourself wondering what else to do. We came across a plaque, commemorating a speech Frederick Douglass gave. Was it coincidental that it just happened to be the same day (August 3), but 155 years later? Perhaps. (This also happened to us on another occasion on the trip.)
After walking around the downtown area, we decided to try and see Medina Falls. Unfortunately, the pathway overlooking the falls was crumbling and thus, a bit scary. Plus, there were so many trees and bushes overlooking the falls, that I couldn’t really get a decent view. Actually, had I not heard the sound of the water rushing (plus a dog barking whose owner somehow had managed to get down closer to the falls), I wouldn’t have known that the falls even existed.
After the lackluster viewing of the falls, I drove to see The Culvert Road. I knew that it was the only road under the Erie Canal, but didn’t know the “Ripley’s Believe It Or Not” connection. Apparently, we had missed it the last time we were in town, and since we were the only car on the road, it obviously wasn’t a trendy tourist thing to do. (Since I now live near the Erie Canal, most fun facts about the canal pique my interest.)
The Hart House Hotel
Now that we can travel any day of the week, we generally try to avoid Friday or Saturday nights because it’s always more expensive to stay on those days. Unfortunately, this time we didn’t have a choice, and luckily, the Hart House Hotel had one room available. I loved this quirky hotel and admired all the hard work the owners put into restoring it. It features a contactless check-in, and I’m glad they like to rave on their website that they now have an elevator since our room was on the third floor and the stairs were steep. And no, we didn’t sleep on the couch. Our room was quite large (hence the sitting area) and named after John Jacob Astor.
I would have liked to talk about the dinner we had that night in Medina because it was another reason we had decided to stay there. Alas, it turned out to be the most expensive meal of the trip, and disappointing, too. I rarely post a negative review of a restaurant I’ve been to, primarily because I don’t want anyone to lose their livelihood. I also understand the power of negative reviews on Tripadvisor and Google that can potentially turn people away. The few times I’ve had an issue with a meal, I’ve sent a note afterwards to the manager just as a heads-up and expect nothing in return. My silence about this particular restaurant will be enough.
On To Canada (But Lake Ontario First)
In the morning, we had time to kill before a 1:30 lunch reservation at Trius, a winery/restaurant we had been to before in Niagara-on-the-Lake. So, we decided to take the long way on Route 18 which runs along Lake Ontario. The weather that day was gorgeous, and we got to see a new lighthouse, Three Mile Point, as well as what looked like a laid-back summer town of Olcott. One takeaway from this ride were the gorgeous flowers (particularly sunflowers) that I saw blooming in everyone’s garden! For the birthday girl, it made her day!
Niagara-On-The-Lake
We have been to this area of Ontario many times and it’s still one of our favorite places to visit. Luckily, the border crossing was quick, and although we did end up driving through the town of NOL to see what was “new,” we just made it in time for our lunch reservation.
We sat outside and looked at the grapes still hanging on the vines. After discussing the hot weather we’ve had with our server, we learned that their harvest might be brought in about three weeks earlier this year. Since I know nothing about harvesting grapes, I just filed this away under something “good to know.” Followed by, yes, climate change is real!
Back to lunch. We had wine flights, and we had a tomato and nectarine salad. Then we had a cold smoked salmon plate with fingerling potatoes and poached shrimp. We split a slice of apricot cake with mousse that was frosted with a white chocolate ganache and whipped cream. We ordered more wine to go with dessert, and thinking about this lunch now makes me very hungry.
Most importantly, look how happy we are after this amazing meal!
London (Ontario that is)
Somehow, I had confused London, Ontario, with a town I thought we had been to and remembered as “charming.” This was not the same town. However, I specifically wanted to stay overnight there because of a restaurant that was on my “foodie radar.” I will mention how much I LOVE traveling through Canada, but how much I HATE the 401, the 405, the 403, and any other major highway that reminds me of being on Long Island. Unfortunately, to get anywhere quickly in Canada, these highways are your only option. Traffic is always bumper-to-bumper. But there aren’t any tolls, and there are “ONroute” rest areas every so often if you need to pee or a get a cup of coffee.
So, after getting off the 401, we made sure the restaurant we were going to was within walking distance of our hotel, and that there were sidewalks. (More on the latter later.) I had forgotten that the next business day was a civic holiday, which meant downtown London was pretty empty. Most people, I’m assuming, having departed for some sort of vacation or camping adventure elsewhere.
Dinner at Grace
Grace offers a CA$65 4-course prix fixe menu that you can’t beat. The Executive Chef, Angie Murphy, also has a sense of humor in that she has named many of her dishes. Case in point: the new potato and pickled cucumber dish that you see below, called “Velvet Underground,” is such an unassuming dish on the menu that I wasn’t sure if I should order it. However, this one totally wowed me. The potatoes and the cucumbers were so smooth (hence the velvet description, I assume) that I could have ordered another plate of that one dish alone. Next up: “Gold Bar” – polenta with eggplant, tomatoes, compressed zucchini, parmesan and basil in a thick tomato sauce. Lynn had a duck breast as an entree (not shown), but I went for something a bit unusual.
Titled “Doctor, Doctor” (put the lime in the coconut and call me in the morning), it featured Ube gnocchi with mushrooms, tofu, and cilantro in a hot coconut sour sauce. I did check with our server to make sure I knew about “Ube.” (It’s similar to a sweet potato, but actually a yam with a gorgeous purple color.) Finally, last but not least, dessert was a “Chocolate Mirage.” Also known as chocolate mousse on a stick with a sour cherry sorbet, the dish was fun and delicious. Oh, and in case you were wondering, the “stick” in question was actually a biscuit that was made to look like a stick and totally edible.
A Bit of Bavaria in Frankenmuth, Michigan
After leaving London in the morning, we crossed back over the border, and suddenly were in Michigan. Frankenmuth was a surprise to me. I was looking for a place to stop for lunch and didn’t know anything about this German-themed town near Saginaw, but still about three hours from our Mackinaw City destination.
Luckily, I had already scoped out the lunch possibilities and settled on Prost, a wine bar/restaurant that specialized in charcuterie. How could we resist that? It was very crowded, but we managed to get a seat at the bar. Since we knew we had a big dinner ahead of us, we decided to share a “German Heritage” board with a couple of beers. I was already feeling a bit elitist (having lived in Munich for so long) that I didn’t think the kitchen would be able to pull off a decent rendition, but they did.
Our board had some summer sausage, liver pate, black forest ham (the only cold cut that I wasn’t particularly fond of), as well as a mild “Butterkäse” cheese along with sauerkraut, pickles and bread. We drank Paulaner out of a can, and I was pleasantly surprised that the food was so good.
Afterwards we walked around town, and I tried to think I was in Bavaria – somewhere. I took a lot of pictures. There were murals, there were tons of flowers, and even a little Glockenspiel with dancing figurines. On the way out of town we even got to drive under an “Auf Wiedersehen” arch.
Mackinaw City Here We Come
I love to look at maps and would frequently look at a map of Michigan. (I know, I know, boring.) But looking at a map fuels my desire to travel and plan trips to see things I haven’t seen before. I had always wondered about Mackinaw City and the Mackinac Bridge which crosses the Straits of Mackinac connecting Lake Michigan and Lake Huron.
I had booked the cheapest hotel I could find for Mackinaw City in August. This meant we were staying at a Holiday Inn right near the bridge. The good news: we had a small balcony and even had a glimpse of the water. The bad news: if you sat outside on the balcony, you were accosted by never-ending traffic (including heavy trucks), so the noise level was pretty high. Luckily, the hotel was on the newer side (or renovated, I’m not exactly sure), and someone had the brains to not only put in room darkening shades in our room, but also install windows that kept all the noise outside.
The Holiday Inn was adequate for our two-night stay. But what we didn’t realize is that although we could almost see the restaurant we had booked that night from our hotel, we weren’t sure how to get there because of the bridge and the traffic. Luckily, we found a road that went under both. When given the option of walking to dinner, we usually prefer that over driving.
Audie’s for Dinner
Billed as a restaurant with both a “Family Room” and “Chippewa Room,” of course we walked into the family side by mistake. I will take a moment to comment on families that let their children 1) run around, 2) make a lot of noise and generally behave badly at the table, and 3) order off a kid’s menu when they are old enough to eat “real” food. I just can’t fathom having children who would behave like that in any restaurant and immediately feel hostile towards parents who don’t do anything to change their children’s behavior. End of rant.
Once we found the correct entrance, two things caught my eye on Audie’s menu. Perch and Whitefish. The last time I had eaten perch was when my grandmother, Theresa, was still alive. She lived in Whiting, Indiana, a mere 29 minutes from downtown Chicago, on the shores of Lake Michigan. Occasionally when I’d visit, I remembered many “all you can eat perch” meals at a place called Phil Smidt. Before they went out of business, I even found a retro-looking postcard that I’m particularly fond of. I even put the postcard in a small frame to remind me that their sauteed perch in butter sauce was the best I’ve ever eaten!
I was hoping Audie’s would be up for the challenge. While their perch was decent, it wasn’t the buttery, melt-in-your-mouth goodness I was looking for. Still, the menu was fun. We had some Oysters Rockefeller to start, followed by the perch, and apparently, someone had told them it was my birthday week, so we split some homemade vanilla maple ice cream for dessert.
And if anyone wants to see the glimpse of water from our little balcony and the bridge at night, I have photographs of that, too.
Tomorrow we’ll take the ferry over to Mackinac Island. You’ll be able to read about it on my next post.
Last summer, I wanted to visit Naulakha, the only house that was built by Rudyard Kipling in Dummerston, Vermont. Unfortunately, the trip never panned out, so when tickets went on sale for this year’s opening, I didn’t waste any time.
Now owned by The Landmark Trust USA, the house is about a 10-minute drive from Brattleboro. Construction started in 1892-1893 and Kipling spent about $11,000 to have the house built. He was also adamant that the architect, Henry Rutgers Marshall of NYC, design it so the layout was similar to a ship. I didn’t really see the ship allusion, but the house is quirky, and the grounds are beautiful.
Manchester for Lunch
We had started this two-day trip the day before and headed to Manchester for lunch. I’ve written frequently about traveling to Vermont when we lived on Long Island, and how when our son was little, he called the state of Vermont “Mont.” Apparently to him, it was a magical place that Mommy and Daddy liked to disappear to every so often.
Manchester has changed in the 30+ years we’ve been visiting. Some of the old Inns are still there, but bigger chain hotels have moved in. There seem to be more places to eat now and less shopping. (That in my opinion is a good thing.)
Sunday lunch (not brunch) can be tricky even in major urban areas. My favorite thing to do is simply look at Google maps, click on some restaurants in the area I’ll be traveling to, and hope that their restaurant hours and website are up to date. Bonus points if they have posted a recent menu and not a “Mother’s Day” menu from 2022.
We ended up at a new place (for us), The Crooked Ram, that advertised their outdoor dining area – The Yard. Since I love eating outside on almost any occasion (well, maybe not when it’s snowing), this seemed like a lovely way to kick off our small trip.
The Yard has a fun vibe. You’re sitting outside but are covered under a mostly open wood beam structure. The menu is small plates oriented and creative. If there were any pet peeves on my part, it was their highly crafted, but limited wine offerings by the glass. This is partially my fault. I’m not up to speed on organic/natural wines and haven’t jumped on the orange wines that are very trendy right now. (I actually had to look up how that particular color is achieved. It’s wine made from white wine grapes, but they use the same fermentation process as red wine.)
We were going to get oysters to start. But when I learned they had been flown in from the West Coast, I balked. I really do try to stay local and not contribute to climate change problems. Hence, I don’t like to order things to eat that first had to make either a plane ride or long-distance truck haul in order to get on my plate. I did see other tables eating these oysters and hoped we could get some for dinner.
Tuna Crudo and A Pie
So, forgoing the oysters, the next best thing was for us to order a tuna crudo with dill fronds and thin slices of radishes with a diced fennel garnish. There were also some spicy red peppers thrown in with the vinaigrette and all I can say is “Yummy!” Could the tuna have been flown in from the West Coast as well? Possibly, but at this point I had already passed on the oysters, and the crudo sounded delicious.
You’ll notice in the photograph below that after much back and forth with our very patient server, I simply ordered us glasses of French Burgundy. Yes, I wimped out after trying to discuss the merits of a certain white or orange wine, and I wasn’t in the mood for beer.
After the tuna, we decided to split an artichoke and coppa-laden pizza that was pretty good. I say that because while the dough was thin and chewy, it was a little on the bready side for my taste. Still, it hit the spot and we had a nice lunch.
This was not an inexpensive meal, and I did read many of the Trip Advisor reviews online where people complained about the prices and the small portions. I don’t mind small portions and since I food shop almost every day, I know what good food costs. Factor in the price of staff to make and serve such delicacies and, yes, it becomes very expensive to eat out these days.
Woodstock Next
We didn’t remember ever visiting Woodstock, Vermont, and after lunch we drove to see “what’s there.” There were shops, a few hotels, a few restaurants, but the most popular place in town seemed to be the ice cream place – Woodstock Scoops. It was hot, it was summer, could we actually get a scoop of ice cream and break our record of only one scoop a year? (We already had ice cream last month after a day on Lake Ontario.) We did. Well, since we were in Vermont, I wanted something with maple syrup in it. Hence, my scoop of vanilla with maple syrup and walnuts. It was so good that I forgot to take a photograph! I just ate most of it myself until I handed the cup over to Lynn who had already finished his (boring in my opinion) chocolate soft serve in a cone.
One Red Covered Bridge Needed
I wanted a picture of a red covered bridge so did a quick search on my phone and found one after our ice cream stop. The Taftsville covered bridge proved to be a popular spot with visitors that day, but I did get more than one photograph.
Waterbury – Hen of the Wood
We had visited Waterbury back in August 2021 and the reason for our visit this time (besides visiting Kipling’s house which at this point was now two hours south of us) was to have dinner at Hen of the Wood. We had eaten at their Burlington location, but never snagged a reservation at their Waterbury place.
Hen of the Wood is now located in downtown Waterbury, a move from their previous site. The space is modern which I wasn’t expecting but not cold. The menu and wine list were as inviting as their Burlington spot, and the service was probably some of the best I’ve experienced in a few years.
We were lucky that they had oysters to start. From Cape Cod! That’s only two states over, right? So, we ordered a half dozen. In perusing the menu, I was almost embarrassed to admit to our server, Maria, that I knew what “Fazzoletti” meant. (It’s handkerchief pasta.) Although I told her in jest not to tell anybody, even she couldn’t resist raising her eyebrows at my knowledge. That said, the pasta was a bit doughy, but the mascarpone cream sauce with spinach and breadcrumbs brought it all together. We ordered the ham-wrapped rabbit loin next and while it looked very appealing on the plate, it was a bit dry.
This location, like Burlington, has a wine list with lots of vintages you don’t see on other restaurant menus. We ordered an Austrian blend which was a nice accompaniment to the entree we split – a hanger steak with asparagus and grilled onions that looked like tiny trumpets on top of the steak. Heralding summer perhaps?
We weren’t going to get dessert, having already indulged in ice cream that afternoon, but they were offering a selection of Vermont cheeses. Perhaps I was expecting a cheese plate from days past. What we got was a wedge of cheese with some rhubarb-y purée and a few crackers. It was underwhelming.
After dinner we walked across the street to look at real estate listings since our table had been facing the window of a local real estate office. We aren’t looking for a house, but I always get a kick out of seeing how much people are asking for houses/land in the area. (Most of the homes were over $1 million.)
Back on the Roadin the Morning
We had some time to kill before our timed ticketed entry to visit the house, so after we had a halfway decent hotel breakfast (bacon, eggs, toast, weak coffee, and even fresh fruit), we stopped to take a look at how Montpelier was doing. You may remember that the capital of Vermont sustained massive flooding last summer. The town was up and running but it looked like they were still trying to pave the road in front of the Vermont State House.
Finally, Naulakha
Here’s a photograph of Rudyard Kipling’s house as you walk up the driveway.
It was fascinating to walk inside the house and go through the rooms. While it’s now available for short term rentals (as a historic property through The Landmark Trust), I think they did a good job of trying to retain the authenticity of the house. The kitchen is equipped for modern day use (toaster, stove, fridge, etc.), but when you walk through the dining room and the guest bedrooms, I did get a sense of Kipling being there.
Couple of things I learned while walking through the house. I didn’t realize he was so incredibly prolific as a writer, or that he made a lot of money doing so. His wife, Caroline, kept a very detailed diary, not only of what their daily life was like up in Vermont, but of their finances. On December 31, 1894, Kipling wrote: “Carrie tots up the books and finds that I have this year earned $25,000. Not exactly a bad record.”
Here’s a picture of his desk and a bookcase filled with his work.
Besides the various small guest rooms (most with single beds), there were two rooms that were designated as “nurseries” for his three children. The plasterwork in the photograph was done by Kipling’s father who was also an illustrator/teacher and curator who spent most of his career in India. There was also an expansive loggia with lovely views of the garden and the mountains in the distance. I could imagine him sitting there during his residence. I could also imagine myself sitting there and writing…
The Attic
We went up to the third floor of the house to see the attic. In this part of the house, there was a pool table, but also a collection of Kipling’s golf clubs. Apparently, he enjoyed playing golf when Arthur Conan Doyle (author of the Sherlock Holmes books) came to visit him. Kipling, according to legend, is also credited with introducing “snow golf” in Vermont. (He painted the golf balls red so he could see them in the snow.)
The Rhododendrons
These were added by the subsequent owners, the Holbrooks, in 1903 but wow, they are amazing! They’ve gotten so large that the bushes have created tunnels where you walk underneath the flowers. I expected them to be intoxicatingly perfumy, but they weren’t at all. It was fun to walk through them and I would have gone back a second time, but there was a bit of a crowd. Lynn did manage to take a photograph of me, so you can see the size of the flowers after nearly 120+ years.
The Years in Vermont
Rudyard Kipling lived in Naulakha for only four years (1892-1896), but it proved to be fruitful. There, he wrote, The Jungle Book, Captains Courageous and also portions of Just So Stories. I still have my copy of the latter. Did I ever think when reading that book as a child that I would one day be able to visit the house where the book was penned? I did not.
The sound of the cannons being fired over the fort wall were loud. It was a warm sunny day and we found ourselves very happy to be back on the road again. Just under 2.5 hours from our house, the long tree-lined drive up to Fort Ticonderoga reminded me of trips we had done in the south visiting historical homes. Overlooking Lake Champlain, this 18th century fort had barracks to explore, fortified walls to climb, and most importantly, an amazing garden to “ooh and aah” over.
Our guided interpreters weren’t using real cannon balls that afternoon but dressed as British soldiers and American “provincial soldiers,” they put on a good show in pretending to defend the fort during the French and Indian War. We also learned about shoemaking and tailoring in the 1760’s and as much as we tried to get our “soldiers” to fall out of character by suggesting they order their britches from Amazon rather than sewing them by hand, they didn’t take the bait.
After holding our hands over our ears after the cannon firing, we headed towards the greenery. Called the “King’s Garden,” there is a bountiful vegetable garden (much of which was used I was told to create salads in the fort’s cafe) as well as an astonishing array of colorful flower beds and herbs. The fort was nice but truthfully, I could have sat in the garden all day.
Look at the lettuce, the over-sized sunflower, and the orange and yellow marigolds!
Here are some details from the garden door entrances and a lovely fountain in a reflecting pool.
After we left the garden, we had one last thing to visit before we left the area – Mount Defiance. A short 10-minute drive from the fort, a token we were given when buying the tickets had to be inserted into what looked like a parking meter. The people in front of us were having a bit of a problem with this task. It turned out that the distance between the meter and the driver’s side of the vehicle was too far. This meant that someone had to get out of the car, insert the token, then quickly jump back in the car so you didn’t run the risk of having the barrier gate hit your windshield. Sigh. Was this the best (only?) idea someone could come up with to give visitor’s access to the road that led up to the Mount? Once we dealt with this annoyance, the view at the summit of Lake Champlain and the fort in the distance was pretty amazing. We stayed a bit longer than planned to hear our costumed interpreter talk about everything that was wrong with the fort. First of all, the walls surrounding the fort weren’t high enough to ward off invaders, and secondly, it was facing the wrong way. Today, however, when you look at the picture I took, it kind of looks like a halfway decent condo complex.
Lake George Revisited
After visiting the fort, we drove south to Lake George. Although we had driven through Lake George a few times coming back from someplace else (probably Canada), we hadn’t stayed in the area in 20+ years. Eschewing the more touristy Lake George main area, we settled on a family-run resort in Diamond Point.
The Juliana Resort was a quirky motel with ranch style accommodations. Before booking, the reservation site was very specific about your room amenities and views. Therefore, given the option of having a “parking lot view” or at least a glimpse of the lake, I chose the latter.
Well, it wasn’t the sprawling view of the lake I thought it would be and the “beach” aspect of the resort was probably the tiniest piece of sand I had ever seen, but there was a dock, and the mountains were pretty. Also, the room was clean, and the grounds were well-kempt with lots of grills and outdoor tables and even a wooden “Adirondack-style” swing that we did indeed swing in.
Dinner Options
If you remember my story from two years ago about our dearth of food options (and only a single food shot – BBQ in Richmond, VA), I was determined that was absolutely not going to happen on this trip. I planned hotel stays based around restaurants I wanted to dine in. In the Lake George area, I knew this would be a challenge since “red-sauce” and “wing-type” places outnumber any true culinary finds. Well, you probably know where this is going, right? The restaurant we ate in (which I will not name) on the first night of our road trip looked okay on their website. Right on the lake and only a short six-minute drive from the motel, it boasted not one but three outdoor decks, a no-reservation policy, and what they described as “stunning views.”
When we arrived for dinner, I didn’t see any food on anyone’s table. What I did see were half-eaten plates of nachos, bread baskets that appeared to have been untouched, and lots and lots of empty wine glasses. It’s not like we had the option of going anywhere else, right?
We ordered clam chowder (first mistake) that was mostly cream and potatoes. Lynn opted for a pork roast special that I have to assume no one else in the entire restaurant had ordered because they gave him what seemed like a family-sized portion. I had been craving a steak since the beginning of the summer and decided to order a tenderloin. The steak that came out was so overcooked it could only be described as “gray.” Even though it was actually fairly soft, it was tasteless. Hence, even more sighing on my part.
When I asked our server to take a picture of us that evening, briefly explaining to her that we hadn’t traveled in two years, nor had we been back to Lake George in over 20, she said, “Wow!”
I continued to tell her that I realized after working on a photo project this past summer that I had only found 72 photographs of us as a couple. When I showed her a photograph that was taken shortly after we first met, she said something very odd.
“You’re so small!”
I think she meant to say “young” but somehow “small” became her word of choice. Since Lynn is 5 foot 10 and I’m not much shorter (5 foot 8), I don’t think “small” is the way to describe us. But since we both have a sense of humor, we now like to ask each other in the morning, “How are you feeling?” Obviously, the answer is “I’m feeling small!”
In case anyone is curious. Do we look “small” in either of these photographs?
In the morning, I made the mistake of telling Lynn we would be having breakfast at a “flapjack-type of place” on the drive out of town. He seemed to misinterpret this as a breakfast spot that only serves pancakes. Consequently, I had to show him the menu since he’s really an egg-and-toast kind of guy. We actually had decent ham and cheddar omelets for breakfast and yes, I ordered a side of silver-dollar pancakes. Not only were they yummy, but I was happy they didn’t upcharge me for some real maple syrup to pour on top.
Destination: Lake Winnipesaukee
At some point during the pandemic, I had been getting emails from the Wolfeboro Inn in Wolfeboro, NH, on the above-mentioned lake. We hadn’t been to that part of New Hampshire, and it seemed like it might be scenic and fun. Luckily, there were also a couple of decent restaurants in town, so I thought why not? The hotel had seen better days, but it was also one of the few reasonably priced places to stay in Wolfeboro. Our room on the second floor looked out onto the central air conditioning unit of a lower building, and from what I could tell walking around the grounds, none of the rooms had a lake view. Luckily, dinner that night (not at the hotel) gave me faith that going forward quite a few good meals might be attainable.
Pavillon is a relatively new restaurant in Wolfeboro connected to a luxury boutique hotel. Focused primarily on small plates, we started with corn chowder and homemade parker house rolls. (I never order bread but couldn’t resist trying these.) Spätzle with roasted carrots and peas (shown below) was up next followed by a beet salad with watermelon, jalapeños and pepitas, and a scallop dish with pancetta, pea shoots, pea puree, and slices of peach that I really wanted to like. However, the peaches were tasteless and with a staggering price of over $40, I didn’t expect it to be oversalted. Nevertheless, we ended up getting dessert (a coffee crème brûlée) because I just happened to flip over the “after dinner” drink menu at the end of the evening. Having lived in Munich for nearly a decade, I was astonished to find a German brandy, Asbach Uralt, on the menu. Pours of this “Weinbrand” for a mere $10? I couldn’t resist ordering a glass.
A Gorgeous Day Visiting “Castle in the Clouds”
Wel, it wasn’t really a castle, but it was a very lovely historic house called the Lucknow Estate that was built in 1914 by Thomas and Olive Plant high up on a mountain overlooking Lake Winnipesaukee. Much of the house was inspired by the arts and crafts movement and the house had a couple of interesting pieces of furniture, as well as state-of-the-art appliances for the time. Castle in the Clouds had not been on my “bucket list” but I like to look at maps and find things for us to do rather than just hiking or day-drinking. Plus, I love touring old houses, so this ended up being a worthwhile visit.
There were gorgeous reading nooks, fireplaces, and decorative window trimmings to behold. There was an enormous laundry room with a sink I would like to have and a pipe organ that someone on our tour decided to play. There were skylights and let’s not forget the views! You could look outside a window and see the lake, and since we were truly “in the clouds” on this blue-sky day, the view was stunning. Dare I mention a “needle shower ” in the owner’s bathroom? Apparently, women were “discouraged” from bathing during this time period, but I think being pelted with all the water emanating from those shower heads might have been fun.
Onto Holderness and Squam Lake
After our tour of the house (as well as the basement which we paid extra for just to get an idea of the inner-workings of this luxury estate), we went in search of lunch. A lobster roll to be precise. We hadn’t originally intended to end up near Squam Lake, but I was intrigued by the reviews of Walter’s Basin Restaurant and the outdoor deck.
Here’s our lobster roll! With outstanding onion rings (not greasy!). And yes, when our server asked how it was, I told her it was one of the top FIVE lobster rolls of all time. She actually blushed! We ate our lobster rolls and watched a couple of boats come in and out of the neighboring marina.
Weir’s Beach, Then Dinner
Driving through Meredith (not much to see except a strange waterfall in the middle of town), we headed over to Weir’s Beach. Much of the town (similar to Lake George) had already shut down for the season. Walking through the town, it reminded me a bit of the old Asbury Park without the boardwalk, but a decent promenade with a view of the lake. I detoured a bit just to take a shot of the Weir’s Beach sign. Campy but cool! (I realized they don’t use an ” ‘s ” on their sign so maybe my spelling is incorrect.)
We headed back to Wolfeboro and walked around town a bit only to discover that most of the shops were already closed. We had made a reservation for dinner that night at Wolfetrap, a seafood place near the hotel. When we arrived for dinner at 6:30 (the last reservation we could get since the restaurant closes at 8 p.m.), we were greeted by a grumpy hostess who practically yelled, “Do you even have a reservation?” We assured her we did and waited a few minutes to sit at a large and somewhat uncomfortable wooden table outside on the deck. We had oysters which were described as “local,” but were actually from Prince Edward Island. (Not that local!) Lynn, for reasons known only to Lynn, ordered swordfish tacos that had a few pieces of fish thrown into a soft flour taco. Luckily, I fared better with a decent swordfish steak. The fact that we were back at the hotel by 8:16 pm., with not much to do for the rest of the evening, was uneventful.
Frank Lloyd Wright In Manchester
The Zimmerman house in Manchester, New Hampshire, had been on my radar for a while. Described on the Currier Museum website as “the only art museum in the world with two Frank Lloyd Wright homes,” tour times and tickets are limited with access to the homes only via the museum’s van. I had read about the Isadore and Lucille Zimmerman house (1950) but was surprised to also have a tour (three houses down) of the recently acquired Kalil house. So when we ended up on the van with a bunch of FLW “groupies,” each offering detailed descriptions of other houses they had seen (mostly in Wisconsin), I felt right at home.
Zimmerman was a doctor who lived in Manchester but decided to “downsize” to a ranch. Luckily, he and his wife were fond of Wright’s aesthetic and the world of Usonian architecture. This house was smaller than other Wright houses we had seen, but the signature Wright details were still there – custom-designed furniture, a galley kitchen, and small glass windows. I was also intrigued by the new-fangled appliances of the 1950’s which included a top-loading dishwasher. Since there was no basement in the house, even the furnace was stuck in a corner of what Wright described as a “workspace” rather than a kitchen.
There was also an open living room with one wall assuming the role of “long couch” and a very unique music stand. I think the Zimmerman’s must have had many lovely musical evenings in this room. Wright even designed a unique mailbox for this house which is still there today.
Mildred and Toufic Kalil House
Built in 1955, the house is one of only seven “Usonian” houses Wright designed. I wanted to like this house and appreciated FLW’s built-in furniture, but the house both inside and outside was constructed with concrete blocks. Although we were encouraged by our tour guides to sit down in the living room, the space reminded me too much of drab concrete buildings that sprang up all over post-war Europe. Here’s a few photographs to give you an idea.
Louis Kahn in Exeter and Following the Remnants of Hurricane Lee in Rockport
Apparently, we had once driven by the Louis Kahn library on the campus of Phillips Exter Academy, but I didn’t remember it! This time, with the help of a student, we managed to get inside the building. The Librarian on duty was not particularly amused by our being inside when students were “on campus.” She then proceeded to scold us and said we needed to make an appointment to visit the library. Suddenly, we were told to leave the building, and when I asked to take some photographs, she said “only one.” I decided to ignore her and quickly took over a dozen shots, but I couldn’t get the photograph I wanted. Why? Because there was an art exhibition in the space and someone had placed what looked like a big ball of chewing gum right in the middle of the famous ceiling.
We had time to kill before lunch, so we decided to drive up to Rockport and look at the water. Hurricane Lee had passed through 24 hours prior, so we were hoping to see some big waves. We got them! Along with a photograph of the “most painted building in the world” also known as Motif No. 1. I remembered we had a magnet on our fridge of this red fishing shack, purchased I believe when the town of Rockport was still “dry” (no alcohol sold or served in restaurants!) I’m glad to report this was abolished a few years ago but the fact that it was a law for over 162 years is mind-boggling.
Salem, Again
We had visited Salem two years ago and thought it was well, interesting. This time around it was very crowded, parking was limited, and we seemed to be surrounded by groups of young women dressed in black and wearing pointy witch hats. We went back to have lunch at a place right on the water where dinner had been decent. This time around our lunch was just okay. We walked around town, avoiding most of the touristy “witch-hunt” sites, and went to see the Peabody Essex Museum.
I liked this museum. Lynn thought the floor plan was difficult to read, but we saw a couple of interesting exhibits. It seems I’m always drawn to the gardens wherever I go, and the Peabody Essex provided a lovely outdoor space with an interesting fountain.
Over the years, we’ve stopped staying at Inns, preferring the anonymity of a larger hotel chain. However, all the hotel rooms in Salem were sold out that weekend and only because of a cancelled reservation a few minutes before I tried to book a room online did I find us a room. We didn’t really have to visit Salem again, but I had wanted to try a fairly new restaurant, Settler, that I had been reading about. Thus, we ended up at the Salem Inn, in a decent-sized room in one of their old houses. Breakfast was included in the room rate, but not only did you have to make a reservation for this meal, but also choose what you wanted to eat when you checked in! I found this tremendously annoying but did as requested. (9:30 a.m. – cheese and mushroom omelets, wheat toast, fruit, coffee.)
Dinner at Settler turned out to be the best meal of the trip. The only disappointment was a Martini that was lack-luster, and the excessive mark-up on the wine list. We ate our way through some lovely meze: tuna crudo with thinly sliced radishes; homemade falafel; a cozy dish of lamb merguez which is usually a sausage, but this was transformed into a meatball; house-made spaghetti with spicy clams; and a perfectly cooked halibut. Finally, we finished off the meal with not one but two desserts – a burnt Basque cheesecake with vanilla gelato and a chocolate tart with pistachio gelato. Was it delicious? Absolutely.
Kennebunkport, Maine, and the Atlantic Ocean
Remember we lived on Long Island for over 30 years so stopping to eat some clams and seeing the Atlantic Ocean shouldn’t have been a big deal. Maybe it was just the unusually warm September day. Or the fact that we were looking forward to seeing the beach again. Whatever it was, we stopped for lunch at Bob’s Clam Hut. There we both had a basket of fried clams but truthfully, we could have split one. It was good, but there was just too much food.
After lunch we drove to Kennebunkport. We had driven through the area two years ago on the way to Camden and I remember seeing people shuffling through town because it was so crowded. Luckily, this time the sidewalks were less busy, and when we checked into our motel, the Seaside Inn, we even managed to get upgraded to an oceanfront room.
We walked on the beach and afterwards just sat on our hotel balcony watching a few boats go by and a “ship-ahoy” themed weathervane spin on the top of a cupola. Actually, now that I look at the exterior shot of the Seaside Inn, it reminded me a bit of a place we used to stay at on Hilton Head Island!
I will only briefly mention dinner that night and our reason for being there in the first place. We had a nearly five-year-old gift certificate to the White Barn Inn that we were determined to use. We were the youngest couple at the restaurant and while the menu looked inspiring, the food that came out (regardless of what we ordered) had too much salt or cream or crunchy things. We opted for a cheese plate for dessert and were brought out a dish that looked like something a toddler might have cobbled together after standing on a stool to reach the fridge. To assure my readers that I’m not exaggerating, here it is:
Time to Go Home
Inevitably, it’s time to go home. Even when we were both working, we would try to delay the drive back by seeing one more sight and even having one more lunch. This time we decided to avoid I-95 for a while and travel down Route 1 through the towns of Wells, Oqunquit, and York. Along the way we found a roadside bakery and picked up some croissants. Then we found a road sign pointing us to Nubble Lighthouse. Who doesn’t like to see a lighthouse? Apparently, a lot of other people had the same idea that cloudy, gray day. After a mere 10-minute detour, we were awarded with a picturesque shot of this beauty. You actually can’t get to the lighthouse (it’s on a tiny island), but you do get a lovely view from the parking lot.
We drove home in the rain (and yes, stopped for one last lobster roll), hit annoying traffic until we got to Albany, and already started planning our next road trip.
Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.
If you missed my new collection of short stories, The Camp People, it’s available on Amazon.
I didn’t want the dream to end. I was in Europe staring at pastries behind a glass window. However, each pastry, unlike the scrumptious eclairs shown below, was placed apart from each other (a good six inches I would guess) with a number in front of it.
I gathered one had to order the desired pastry by number only and then sit down in chairs that were lined up as if one were in the waiting room of a doctor’s office rather than a beautiful cafe. Was this a pandemic-related dream? The six inches (or six feet in real life) seemed plausible. And sitting in a doctor’s office (or at least wanting to) nibbling a sweet treat seemed to be entirely credible given the last eight weeks.
Lynn had hernia surgery in the beginning of May. It was supposed to be a routine outpatient procedure with little post-op complications. Except no one could be there with him. He would have to be dropped off at the hospital and I would have to wait for a phone call from the surgeon. What’s this have to do with deer you ask? (Note the title of this essay.) Nothing, except that up until this weekend, they were always pretty well behaved on our property.
Lynn had delayed having the surgery because he wasn’t in any pain. Plus, once we had started the ball rolling on this semi-elective “event,” we were told the procedure had to be postponed until a surgeon was available and everyone was vaccinated! We were okay with that. After all we have known each other a very long time (42 years actually) and agree on the important stuff. Besides, we love just being by ourselves. We also love cooking and growing our own food. We did hope, however, that the hernia (derived from the Latin word “rupture”) wouldn’t do just that before the operation was scheduled.
He was not good with anesthesia, albeit the last surgery he had was 28 years ago. He had been running through Penn Station trying to catch a Long Island Railroad train to get home to me. But he slipped, missed a step on the stairs to the platform, and fractured his ankle. Did he miss me that much to justify sprinting for the train? Perhaps. But in actuality, I was on bed rest for a pregnancy that could go bad at any given moment. He wanted to get home as soon as he could for both of us; everyone was on edge.
So, he, going into this new surgery, which had been delayed because of COVID, made us uneasy. Could I tell him I was more scared than nervous?
He wouldn’t wear a coat on the day of the procedure. “More stuff to carry,” he said. “Wear casual clothes” they told him. After being home since March 2020 what else was there to wear except sweatpants and a t-shirt?
“At least take a phone charger,” I said to him.
“No,” he countered.
I dropped him off at the hospital early (6:45 AM) but as mentioned, couldn’t go inside. He went in on his own and it reminded me of the first day we sent our son to preschool many years ago. Neither of them ever looked back at me or even waved.
I drove home and stared out our kitchen window. We have a lot of property and woods so I waited for our “resident” deer to come down the hill to give me a sign that everything would be okay. But they just walked right up to their usual spot – eating the grass and a dandelion or two for good measure. Thinking back on them now, I’m quite happy with their restraint.
They say most couples don’t talk about sex, death and money. Pretty funny since we talk about all three of those “taboo” topics frequently – sex and money more than death. Should death be at the top of my list to think about today, though?
I tried to read but since we had been up most of the night worrying about the outcome, my eyes refused to focus. I walked the rooms in our very large house and felt the quiet. Was I prepared for him not to return? I wasn’t. But knew instantly how it would feel if he didn’t come home. I summoned up an old metaphor thinking that the “silence was deafening.” I wanted to shout, “Yes, it is!”
I busied myself, texting our children, not revealing my fear. And then the doctor called. “He did okay,” he said. “Sorry there was a delay.” Turns out, this surgeon had not one but a few emergencies to deal with that Monday morning. I compared it to waiting on the tarmac at JFK. One is anxious for the flight to be airborne, for the trip or vacation to commence. Or, in this case, for the operation to be successfully completed and most importantly, for the patient to have a “smooth landing.”
I’m not religious and I don’t pray but I did look at the “bamboo” on our property which a local chef told me was actually Japanese knotweed. Their sturdy brown and green stalks were pushing through the soil up towards the sky. The chef told me that “their tender shoots are edible.” Suddenly, I, too, felt I was living up to a particular word that the New York Times had written about in describing certain feelings one has encountered in the past year. The word is “languishing,” which made me think; instead of my current state of inactivity, perhaps I should be outside chopping up some stalks and then brewing them into some sort of medicinal beverage to help him recover?
Finally, 12 hours later, I drove back to the hospital to pick him up. He was wheeled out in a wheelchair and looked even grayer than the t-shirt he was wearing. I helped him into the car and reached over to fasten his seat belt. I realized it was exactly the same way I used to buckle in our children when they were young.
“My phone is almost dead,” he said.
I didn’t want to say, “I told you so,” followed by “why didn’t you take the charger?”
Since then, he has been recovering slowly. No pain, but swelling was the primary culprit. He, who has always been the “lifter” of things in our relationship – whether it be bags of topsoil for our never ending gardening adventures or more and more lumber and moulding for house repairs – suddenly stopped lifting.
I would “grow” muscles I thought! I’d wheel out trash cans, carry out recycling bins, lawn furniture and even table saws! (Yes, we do in fact, have multiple saws.) Luckily, the deer decided not to invade our garden until he had healed sufficiently enough to help me try and remedy the problem.
If you recall my last post, I wrote fondly of the new fence we were planning to install because our old one was not only falling apart, but it was rusting and ugly. What we didn’t take into account when putting up our nicer, albeit shorter fence, was that deer can jump quite high to feast on whatever they think is tasty in your average vegetable garden.
We have lived in the Red House for 11 years and this is the first time we had deer be so bold. Around 8:45 on Friday night, we were alerted by a neighbor that a deer was in our garden. It was too dark by then to see what was consumed but in the morning we assessed the damage. Most of the tomato plants were gone, broccoli and Swiss chard, too. A rose bush that our daughter gave us a few years ago (and had a plethora of red roses blooming) was eaten down to the bottom. Ditto for the daylilies and the Stella d’Oro’s.
The lettuce was left mostly intact as were our peas and beans and anything that was squash-related. To say we were furious is an understatement. We decided we had to make our “pretty” fence ugly again by making it higher.
This is the fence that the deer could easily jump over.
And here’s the deer walking around the back of our driveway “pretending” she doesn’t see all the goodness growing inside the garden gate!
But first I went back to the farm down the road in hopes that there would be some vegetables to purchase. I was in luck when not only were there vegetables left but now everything was half price! So for $24, I managed to get new tomato plants, more broccoli, lettuce and Swiss chard. And I bought some Hungarian wax peppers to plant, too. And since I was not particularly confident we would pull off recreating the wheel (I mean fence), I bought some tomato plants that just needed to be replanted into bigger containers that I could grow on the deck.
When I got home, we hauled out the old fence we had unceremoniously rolled up, tying the rolls closed with duct tape. We thought maybe we could just unroll all the old stuff and attach it to the new fence. Our goal was to achieve some height. I mean, really, how high can a deer jump? According to at least four videos we watched, apparently six feet is the magic number. So, we had to make sure the “new” but soon-to-be-ugly fence was higher than that.
And then there was soap. In the past, we, too, had wasted money on bottles of deer “repellent,” dried blood in various forms, and other useless products we were sucked into buying.
Anything that has a powerful “scent” we were told would also aid in keeping them away. So after the greenhouse, I stopped at the supermarket and bought three bars of Irish Spring. Lynn cut them into thirds, drilled a hole in them, and hung them around the “key” areas of the garden.
At this point, for the first time ever, I really started to rethink the garden. After all, we support many local farmers in the area and there are numerous Amish farms within a five minute drive of our house. Couldn’t we just buy ALL our produce from them this summer? There is, however, a certain satisfaction to growing your own food and making something that’s edible and healthy. Plus, what would I write about and photograph if I didn’t have that one perfect tomato or zucchini or celery to brag about?
This, unfortunately, is how we had to add height. Attaching the old fence to the top of the new fence with some wire.
And then we realized we didn’t have enough “old” fence to finish the project. Why that is I don’t know since the dimensions of the new fence and the old fence were basically the same. Which is why at 5 p.m. we got in the car and made the trip to the big box store to look at our fencing options. This item, like lumber, had gone up in price as well. $72 later we headed home with a roll of fencing and finished the job nearly eight hours after we had started it.
My arms were scratched (and bleeding) from constantly hitting a thorny raspberry bush that I kept bumping into as we tried to unwrap the new fence. Why the deer don’t eat these berries is a mystery but they don’t. One of my legs was also dripping with blood since the sharp end of the fence roll kept hitting my leg as Lynn kept trying to measure (and cut) each section we needed. Besides all this, we were also hot, tired and sunburned.
When we were done that evening and I went back into the kitchen, I remembered when he finally came home from surgery that day. He hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours and was hungry! I had planned ahead. There was bread from the bakery, chicken cutlets, salad, even a Guinness-spiked pot roast! He wanted something “simple” so I quickly made him our “jet lag” dish – a ham and cheese omelet with fresh chives from our garden.
“Drink some water,” I implored him as I, myself, sipped a glass of wine, sorry he couldn’t join me.
I started to clean up the kitchen and begged him to sit down but he just wanted to stand and watch me. Apparently, when he was coming out of the anesthesia, he thought the attending female nurse was me and started to stroke her hair. I laughed and was humbled by that innocent, affectionate gesture. And then right before we turned the kitchen lights off, he looked at the stove and said, “you put the burners on the wrong way.”
And that’s why as long as I’m living in the Red House, I will never give up my garden. Even if everything I’m eating tastes a little bit like Irish Spring.
