Category: Gardening

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Visiting Naulakha

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 Road in 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.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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Back to Maine & New Hampshire & Lake George, Too

First Stop – Fort Ticonderoga

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.

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Chasing Deer and Surgeons

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.

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A Mohawk Valley Spring: A New Fence Project

Normally by this time of the year we would be planning a summer vacation and perhaps even a fall trip. However, since we, like the rest of the world, have been sheltering in place and avoiding people like the plague – oh wait, COVID is very much like a plague, our planning sessions are only in our “Dreams.”

While I do like the Irish band, The Cranberries, who perform that song so beautifully, we are extremely fortunate to have very green fields behind our Red House. This, luckily, reminds me of Ireland without having to travel there.

However, as everyone knows, being an “armchair traveler” as well as watching as many travel shows as possible (including StanleyTucci’s show “Searching for Italy” which nearly had me weeping), still doesn’t fill the void of not being able to travel. I miss the thrill of getting on a plane or in a car and having a new adventure. I miss seeing new buildings, visiting museums and above all trying different food!

I have overcompensated for this lack of travel by cooking and baking. Homemade gravlax with some chopped red onions, dill and capers? Yes, please! How about a Yukon Gold potato and goat cheese tart in a puff pastry crust? Absolutely!

I spent most of March promoting my new book, Get In The Car: A Food and Travel Memoir. This entailed pouring through old CD’s, revisiting photo albums and searching through my iCloud account for photographs I could use to advertise the book. The challenge was to find the one or two photographs that would accurately portray what the book was about. More often than not, I simply couldn’t decide which photograph to use so would post a few of the ones I thought worked best on social media.

Besides photographs, we also have a lot of great posters that Lynn and I have collected on our many travels. Promoting the chapter about Vienna, all I needed was to take a photograph of the detailed drawing of the “Post Sparkasse” that is hanging in my dining room. And if you are thinking about Paris, so am I. And London and Venice, too! (You know it’s gotten pretty bad when “House Hunters International” becomes your favorite show to watch on TV. )

By the way, all of these photographs were shot by me. I find looking at photographs (and being a decent photographer) helps me when I’m writing. Not only can I visualize the scene I want to put my characters in, but it helps them interact and “talk” to each other. I’m particularly fond of the night shot I managed to capture of the Eiffel Tower on one of our trips to Paris.

If you look at it closely though, the area seems pretty desolate. Lynn and I had just finished dinner and were attracted by the lights of the Tower so we walked towards it. We ended up in a neighborhood we weren’t that familiar with and since two out of the three times we’ve been to Paris there has been a bombing (1986 and 2017 but not 2003), we quickly walked away. Since Paris is still in “lockdown” until the end of the month, I can only assume that these days much of Paris looks like the scene above.

But gearing up for spring, attention must be paid to the garden and specifically the fence. Back in 2010, we put up what we thought would be a temporary enclosure with the assistance of my father. He claimed since he was a “helper” and most importantly, definitely not the “handy type,” that surely the garden fence should have been on the “National Register of Historic Places.” I actually thought that was pretty funny!

Not so funny though is 11 years later, how truly awful the fence looks. Constructed originally just to keep the deer and the rabbits from eating our vegetables and flowers, I’m amazed it actually didn’t fall down (in spite of Dad’s help) because of our very cold and snowy winters.

Here’s what this “beauty” looks like today- rusted gate hinges and all.

Hiring someone to install a new fence wasn’t even a conversation Lynn and I had. We thought we’d order some of that “no dig” fencing, get a really strong rubber mallet, pound it into the ground and hope it would work. We also hoped it would last as long, if not longer, than the first one.

Of course we gave ourselves a “deadline” to do this project. We have about four weeks or so not only to get the garden into shape (weeding, pruning, raking, etc.), but also get all the vegetables and herbs I had purchased from a CSA farm share I bought in January planted.

To take my mind off all this work and to try out a new kitchen “toy” I had purchased earlier in the year (but never used), I decided to take my dehydrator out for a “test run.” This came about because I love chives, especially dried ones. I found myself getting angrier and angrier every time I had to shell out $5 (or more) on a small bottle of chives just so that I could have scrambled eggs with chives! It must be a European thing, I know, but it just makes a potentially shitty day so much better if you at least have the illusion of a “fancy” breakfast in the morning.

These gorgeous goldenrod-colored eggs are from one of my favorite farmers – Jones Family Farm. We’ve known Peter and Suzie Jones since we bought the house and I’m so honored to be able to not only purchase healthy food from them but am humbled by their back-breaking work.

But first, the barrel that the chives had been growing in for probably 20 years before we got here finally collapsed and we had to get a new one. After much heavy lifting, more splinters in our hands that we care to mention, plus the fact that the new bucket had a “Jack Daniel’s” sticker stapled on the side, should have given me a hint. Yes, the wood did in fact smell like whiskey! Would my chives become whiskey-laced, too? (The answer to that is no.)

I thought for sure when we replanted the chives into their new “home” that they would rebel. Would they “kick the bucket” by dying? (They didn’t, they cooperated.) Which is why even a mere two weeks after lifting up the entire chive “hedge” (really it was so heavy it looked like it was a small hedge) and dumping it into its new Jack Daniel’s “digs,” it began to grow profusely.

So a few days ago I decided to read the manual for the dehydrator not realizing that I would need between six to ten hours to “dry” said chives before they could be properly stored. (Don’t you just hate when you read a recipe and realize whatever you are thinking of making is going to take you 2-3 days?) I actually didn’t think it would work. And now I also know why dried herbs cost so much! The drying time alone has got to be a money loser. Here’s my new toy and the progression of the drying process. As you can see, two large racks in the dehydrator yielded less than half of a small glass jar when all was said and done.

I will definitely cut the chives smaller next time and experiment a bit with drying other herbs, too. But since I have an abundance of chives and time, I relish not having to spend money on herbs I can dry myself.

Meanwhile, it’s been raining so our fence installation project is on hold. I did manage to rake up some dead grass and leaves as well as the remains of last year’s various vegetables. And I am very happy to see the tulips that I planted in a variety of colors are blooming!

I needed a lunch break after all this activity and when I looked outside, who did I see but Mr. Bunny! I’m actually not sure if he is a boy or girl bunny but I like to call “it” Mister just for fun. And where is he sitting? Right in front of the fence gate we are about to remove and replace. I will mention that Mr. Bunny seems to be a lot fatter than he was last year. And his little nose was pointing in the direction of the part of the garden he particularly likes to try and get into – where lots of good things to eat like lettuce and broccoli and sometimes, carrots, too, will be planted.

I tried to photograph him but he is very quick to run away. And like many rabbits you see in illustrated children’s books, he has the most adorable white bottom! And most importantly, he has a tremendous hop! Speaking of children’s books, I started perusing my bookshelves for something new to read. (I have also started to compare my “volumes” with all the talking heads I see nightly on TV but tune out to what they are saying just to see what books they have behind them on their shelves.) I picked up an old copy of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s book The First Four Years and truthfully, even though I was an advanced reader at a young age, I wondered how I got through it.

“For it was June, the roses were in bloom over the prairie lands, and lovers were abroad in the still, sweet evenings which were so quiet after the winds had hushed at sunset.” Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote.

Reading this sentence now, I can see the roses blooming across the prairie and appreciate the winds lessening at sunset, but did I at the age of ten? (The book though written in the late 1940’s wasn’t published until 1971.)

On that note, it would be lovely to be “abroad” – using the word as in visiting a foreign country rather than in the context of lovers walking over a wide area. Hopefully, at least by the end of this year we will be able to at least “hop away” for a while so that we, like “Mr. Bunny,” can see some different pastures.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

My new book Get In The Car: A Food and Travel Memoir is available on Amazon.

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Shopping, Canning and “Hiking” As We Know It

It’s been a while since I have written. Our summer, like those of many people we know, was highly unusual. First and foremost, we tried to stay as close to home (within a three hour drive at least) as possible. I did miss “road trip” traveling this summer and being home more than usual, I found myself gravitating towards movies on TV that had scenes of Europe. (We were supposed to go back to Italy this year.)

One night Chocolat was on and I found myself looking fondly not only at Johnny Depp but also at Juliette Binoche who plays the character of “Vianne.” (Fun fact about Julie: I love windy days!) Consequently, when Vianne and her daughter Anouk travel to a new town “whenever the north wind blows” and somehow come up with a magic chocolate recipe that becomes their livelihood, well, that just made me want to travel even more.

I’ve always been a traveler and this blog was supposed to reflect that. Consequently, not being able to travel this summer because of the pandemic was a challenge. Therefore, we made do. Unfortunately, I traded in traveling for online shopping. Yes, I became one of those awful people who would eagerly wait every day for our local postman, UPS woman or FedEx guy to walk up our very long driveway, dutifully carrying the stuff we purchased.

They, invariably, wore a smile as they worked and I would thank them profusely for delivering all the things we ordered. Granted, some of the items purchased weren’t necessary but ultimately some of them came in very handy.

Two summers ago I had bought Marisa McClellan’s book, Food In Jars , but had not attempted a single recipe! When I tried to order the jars that I needed, I found that all the mason jars to be had in the entire Northern Hemisphere were back-ordered for at least 2 months. This would have been fine had it been May (the beginning of the growing season) but not August when suddenly I had tons of green beans that would be perfect to “put up!” Beets and garlic were showing up in the farmer’s markets, too, and tomatoes, well, let’s just say there were lots and lots of tomatoes that were waiting to be canned.

One day after my now nearly daily visit to the supermarket, I found some amber-colored jars and even though they were “wide-mouthed,” I bought them anyway. I learned to can “dilly” beans and ginger-infused beets but when I put them in the dark jars it came to me. The reason no one buys dark canning jars is because you can’t see what’s inside! Luckily, a couple of my beans managed to edge their way to one side so I could at least distinguish between the beans and the beets.

I also finally got to use a huge pot I had bought years ago with every intention of perhaps trying to steam my own lobsters. I never actually did that, preferring to buy them already cooked but luckily this pot turned out to be the perfect size and height for submerging mason jars in preparation for canning. When I realized you need lots and lots of mason jars when canning enormous amounts of produce (not just four!), I went back online and found some pint-sized ones with a delivery date of only three weeks. (A month later those same mason jars had also doubled in price but I ordered them again anyway.)

I also learned to make my own lobster rolls (buying the aforementioned lobsters already steamed for the awesome price of $5.99 a pound). Then I began to wonder why all these years (last summer in particular when we were driving through Maine towards Prince Edward Island) we were paying $25.00 or more for a mediocre lobster roll for lunch! (Second photo is one of my really yummy lobster rolls not an over-priced restaurant version.)

Then there were the tomatoes! Yikes, I think I now know why people easily can cucumbers to make pickles and buy tons of berries to make jam but do you know how many tomatoes you need to make sauce? You literally need a box full of tomatoes that will (if you’re lucky) yield less than a dozen jars of delicious, but thin (imagine V-8) sauce.

Besides canning, Lynn and I decided to start hiking. Since we live a mere 30 minutes from one section of the Adirondack Park, there was really no reason not to walk. Problem was, everywhere we went, there were tons of people hiking as well. We decided to try and limit our outings to only going out during the week (weekends being verboten) only to discover that many others had a similar idea.

We walked up Kane Mountain – a challenge for me before I bought a good walking stick since I’m not only afraid of heights but I had trouble catching my breath when hiking up and down the mountain. (I was never a smoker just out of shape.) I also didn’t expect to find all those tree roots! If you are as inexperienced a hiker as I am, one little root could definitely send you falling either on your face or your behind!

But as they say, if you don’t do the climb, you don’t get the view. Here’s the tower I managed to climb!

And here’s the reward:

After that challenge though, we opted for more sedate hikes. We sought out rail trails and easy paths always hoping for something with a view.

We bought hiking poles, an insulated backpack for these journeys and always made sure to have a cooler in the car for unexpected farm stands.

We visited numerous state parks and collected many rocks on the shoreline of Lake Ontario.

We revisited Chimney Bluffs near Wolcott, NY, and discovered Tibbetts Point Lighthouse which overlooked the Saint Lawrence River.

We hiked quite a few trails in the Adirondack Park but also drove miles both north and south of us in search of the perfect waterfall.

The summer had been very dry so every time we drove two hours plus we were happy if the water was actually cascading over the rocks and not just a trickle.

We frequently packed a lunch, usually a sandwich or bagel (plus I would begrudgingly pack potato chips for Lynn since he loves chips) but made sure to also pack some fresh fruit. We would occasionally try to visit a winery during the week (thinking that weekends would be more crowded) only to find that similar to our hiking adventures, many of these establishments were just as packed on a sunny Tuesday!

When we ate out, we would only eat at establishments where we could sit outside. And the menu had to have at least one item that I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) make myself. (See the problem with being a decent home cook?) Most of the time we got lucky; look at this beautiful version of a “Falafel Scottish Egg” as the topping on a bed of arugula encased in a cucumber “ring” while lying in a pool of Romesco sauce! (We had this lovely appetizer for lunch one day at the Otesaga Hotel in Cooperstown. )

When we weren’t out “wandering,” we would hang out on the deck. We would fight (yes, literally) over who got to water the vegetable garden in the back of the house and the flowers and bushes in the front of the house. (Hey, it was an activity.)

In between I baked. A pound cake baked in a Bundt pan seemed like a good idea at the time even though it was big enough to feed eight! A quiche is always a welcome lunch addition and I even tried to make chocolate-filled brioche courtesy of a Dorie Greenspan recipe. (They were belly-bombs!)

We bought a new grill which resulted in me trying to find something to grill that I hadn’t made before. Wait! Want to see the instructions on “how to put the grill together?”

How about an Eric Ripert recipe for grilled romaine that’s slathered with mayonnaise, Parmesan and some anchovy paste? What about a Mediterranean spin (that would be olives and tomatoes) on some home-grown asparagus?

The few times we did take-out, we often had to drive 60-70 miles to bring home sushi or oysters on the half shell. (That sounds reasonable, right?)

And on those days that I was working, we would have salad, or my old 1970’s standby, tomatoes stuffed with homemade tuna salad.

And then there was the sand box. I decided we needed a swing so Lynn built a sandbox, too. We hung up the swing (also purchased online) and one windy day (scenes of Chocolat perhaps?), the branch snapped. In hindsight, was I perhaps trying to swing my way to a make-believe travel adventure? Of course, it wasn’t a clean break but a messy, dangling break that required an amputation!

We even blew up a large kiddie pool complete with beach balls and a couple of “donut” floats. (We never did get the pool level even after three months!)

And purchased some new chairs and a fire pit!

Our children came to see us a few times this past summer and we were careful to social distance and eat outside. When we were inside, we kept the patio doors wide open and they, and their respective partners, were kind enough to get COVID tested before they came up for a visit. Each and every time after they left though Lynn and I both felt sad. (We miss them!)

Going into the fall season, we’ve been hiking a bit less but at least trying to walk closer to home. We walk along the Erie Canal nearly every day (even in the rain) and try to find some paths we haven’t explored yet. One day, we found the remains of an abandoned building, reminding us just how prosperous the town was way back when.

In the meantime, the minute the weather started to get colder, I made dumplings and my version of Ramen.

Now that we are a few days away from turning back the clocks and going into true fall season, we’ve started to put all our outdoor “toys” away. We got the snowblower repaired (it broke last season) and put extra mulch on our rose bushes.

We visited an orchard the other day to get some apples since my second order of mason jars finally arrived and making apple sauce is on my “to do” list. I was also very tickled at the sight of our Amish farmers stack of pumpkin decorations.

Is it too soon to look forward to next summer? I believe so, especially “whenever the north wind blows.”

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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Some Milestone Memories

Just a few weeks ago here in the Mohawk Valley we thought spring was upon us. The tulips were blooming and the bamboo started to grow back as well. Then we woke up one morning to snow.

It gave me time to reflect on how life takes unexpected turns and weather even more so. Since we have been sheltering in place like millions of people all over the world during this pandemic, Lynn and I have spent a lot of time together. Luckily, we never run out of things to talk about – mostly we discuss places we’ve traveled to with a couple of foodie meal reminiscences thrown in for good measure. It’s precisely because we have traveled so much that I’ve come to realize how many memories we have shared together.

“I spoke to you first,” my husband Lynn said to me at dinner the other night. “You know, I kept seeing you on the elevator but you ignored me.”

I had to laugh when he said this to me. I had heard the story before but now that we have been home together every single day and night (except for the occasional trip to the supermarket, liquor store or pharmacy), I actually had time to think about way back when. Full confession: I don’t remember seeing him on an elevator! I don’t think this makes me a terrible person or bad wife, it just means I remember things differently.

For example, I remember the day we met at a dorm party. It was October 6, 1979 and I even remember what I was wearing (white jeans, light blue top). But it makes me wonder, on the day we “officially” met, could we have ever envisioned 41 years later that we would be sheltering in place in a Big Red House a mere 75 miles from where it all started? Highly unlikely.

Want to see what I looked like back then? Yes, I did in fact prefer to wear peasant skirts and a BLOUSE!

Prior to our purchasing the Red House, we used to spend a lot of time in California; January after the holidays (our Christmas gift to each other) and again in September/October for our anniversary and hopefully also timing it with “crush” if we were in Northern California. Who wouldn’t want to look at beautiful vineyards filled with grapes, drink copious amounts of wine and drive the coast – especially with views like this?

If we weren’t in California, then we were in Europe. Often we even took the kids. The first and only time we have been to Berlin we took them with us. If I went back to Berlin now and revisited the Brandenburg Gate, I would probably wonder where they had wandered off to.

Lynn and I have also been fortunate to have traveled to Paris many times. But to this day, even if it’s just the two of us in Paris, I still think of Nicholas skateboarding in front of the Eiffel Tower!

And Rachel? Could she have posed for a picture any prettier than in Monet’s garden in Giverny?

During this pandemic, I started to think about all the family trips for other families that may never happen. What about first dates and chance encounters that are missed? Remember the scene in Back to the Future where Michael J. Fox (playing the character Marty McFly) realizes that if his parents don’t meet and you know, kiss big time, he, himself, would not have been born. And remember how he then spends a good part of the movie watching himself slowly fade away on a photograph he’s holding in his hand? That’s how I kind of feel these days about memories that aren’t happening.

Would our life together have been different if we had never gone to California? This picture of us (one of my favorites actually) wouldn’t exist. Would we understand and appreciate farm to table cooking and good wine as much?

What if we had never traveled with our kids? Rachel never would have been standing on a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

And what about smooching the Blarney Stone? There wouldn’t be a photograph of the four of us standing on the ramparts of the Blarney Castle in Ireland. (P.S. I didn’t kiss the rock, I just looked at it.)

These past few weeks I’ve started to think not only of trips we’ve made together but of birthdays we celebrated too.

Here’s the cake that I made for Rachel’s birthday 10 years ago!

That was the cake for the “family” party. She also had a sweet 16 and celebrated with some of her girlfriends with a limo ride and dinner at a popular restaurant in NYC. She’s so beautiful here in her dress!

How many of these milestone events now during our “stay at home” order will have to be spent at home and not celebrated according to plan? Will these celebrations ever be made up or will we just do something on a smaller scale or ignore them totally and move on?

One of my nieces, Daniella, shared some of her thoughts with me about not having the sweet 16 party she was supposed to have. She wrote, “I really wanted to go to school for my birthday to see my friends and everything but school got canceled 3 days before. And then we found out on my birthday that the restaurant was closed…so everyone came over for pizza that night. I was supposed to have a party and that never happened. And we were supposed to see a Broadway play and that’s been postponed. ”

She also mentioned other friends whose parties keep getting pushed back and knows friends who have “just sat at home on their birthday.” She told me she really “did luck out” with the small gathering she was able to have in her honor.

I think that’s a really good attitude to have these days.

This Memorial Day weekend is bittersweet. Usually by this time of year I’m struggling with the stress of what we call the “end of the school year finish line.” But since I’m working from home these days, the finish line is a lot easier. Normally, Lynn and I have already mapped out summer vacation plans or at least a road trip or two. This year we were thinking about going back to Nova Scotia – an area we haven’t visited in 30 years. We were also thinking about a repeat visit to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater in Pennsylvania on the way to Nashville.

Then there is Lake Superior. It’s the only one of the “Great Lakes” we haven’t seen together. And when I get an idea in my head about doing something or going somewhere, eventually I make it happen. Apparently, that won’t be the case this summer.

It’s probably the traveling part that I miss the most coupled with the knowledge going forward that there may be no travels whatsoever for us anytime soon. Does this mean we will simply be “camping” forever at the Red House?

I think this is actually okay. We’ve managed to finally catch up on some overdue home projects. After all, it’s been a little less than a year since we permanently moved up to the Mohawk Valley. And yes, believe it or not, there is still one box that hasn’t been unpacked because it’s filled with pictures and some art work that either needs to be framed and/or hung on a wall.

There has also been quite a bit of gardening. I even bought myself a new pair of gardening gloves which I found particularly charming in that they bizarrely had my paternal grandmother’s name stitched on the side.

I realize that this sheltering in place has not only compromised our lifestyle but made us redefine family and home. Now we spend days deliberately and carefully avoiding any contact with anyone. There are signs taped on the floor of one of the few stores we frequent – directing us where to stand and which direction to walk. And always reminding us to “social distance” and remain six feet apart.

Meanwhile, the deer on our property obviously aren’t following the “rules,” they are congregating in larger groups than we’ve seen before.

But I have to think that this pandemic has compromised so many memories. So much of our childhood and young adulthood relies on certain milestones – whether it be a sweet 16 or school graduation. To make matters even worse, it’s the elderly parents and grandparents who can’t celebrate these milestones with us. I’ve seen pictures of people waving to their parents and grandparents through a window. This saddens me. What about those folks who are deemed too “vulnerable” to even go outside to shop or take a simple walk in case they are exposed to the virus? What memories will they have other than of being stuck at home?

Pictures, of course, help immensely in trying to remember how life had been. But you can’t take a photograph of an important milestone if the milestone doesn’t happen.

I mean, look at sweet Nicholas when he won a plaque for competing in a karate tournament on Long Island!

Or Rachel on her first trip to France when I asked her to turn around so I could photograph her in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles!

Meanwhile, as we prepare for the summer months, it’s good to spend time outside; gardening (as mentioned) helps immensely. Most of the vegetables are planted and I’m working on a new planter box filled with herbs as well.

This is a photograph I took of a mural painted on a hotel room wall in St. Paul de Vence one summer when we were traveling through the south of France. It’s quite lovely isn’t it? Sigh, I do miss that life.

There’s a lot of time for reflection these days. Lynn and I have been lucky. We don’t know anyone personally who has gotten sick or died from COVID-19. We do know many people who have lost their jobs and are struggling with meager unemployment checks and countless bills to pay. We have tried to help our local farmers by purchasing CSA shares and shopping at their small farm stands when we can. We have tried to limit our online shopping, choosing instead to support local butchers and bakers and liquor stores. We play a lot of Scrabble. We have watched more TV than we normally do but we try to limit the amount of news we watch because it’s just too depressing. We have repeatedly cleaned the house and organized drawers and thought of even more projects to do both inside and outside our home.

Actually, like my niece Daniella wrote, I think we did “luck out.” And while I miss our travel life , I’m okay with this new “normal. ”

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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Campobello Island – But First A Stop In Saint Andrews, New Brunswick

Visiting Campobello Island to see Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt’s summer “cottage” (it has 34 rooms!) had been on my do-list for a while. I love visiting old houses and am fascinated by stories of how people lived during the 1930’s and 1940’s. This probably has something to do with growing up in Munich and being constantly surrounded by reminders of World War II. But first we needed a place to stay.

So, after we had visited PEI, we drove to Saint Andrews (also referred to as Saint Andrews By-The-Sea) which is a very romantic sounding name for this town in an area called the Maritime Provinces of Canada.

We were to stay one night at Rossmount Inn, a hotel I had read about that had travelers raving about the on-site restaurant. But first we decided to pay a visit to Kingsbrae Gardens. If you are interested in garden design and flowers and plants like I am, this is a must-see stop. Set on over 25+ acres in a residential area of Saint Andrews, they not only have lovely flower gardens but an interesting sculpture garden and miniature exotic pet farm, too.

To give you an idea of how much they love gardens (and gardening!) this was the first thing I saw walking onto their beautiful estate.

We walked around the gardens admiring all the flowers and the neatly trimmed hedges.

Plus they even made rows and rows of daylilies and assorted other wildflowers look civilized.

And then we saw the peacock! I mean, I had seen a peacock spread its feathers before but this bird decided it was going to give us a little fashion show. Look how it spread its feathers and strutted a bit so we could see both the front and back of this gorgeous bird – a member of the pheasant family I believe.

I actually thought the back of this beautiful beast was even more interesting than the front.

After more sculpture (see the food theme prevalent here with an apple core and an avocado), we went to the hotel.

A Night at the Rossmount

Chef Chris Aerni and his lovely wife Graziella are probably one of the nicest couples we’ve encountered on our many travels here and abroad. They are totally hands on with this lovely retreat they have created and love to talk to their guests not only about food but places they, too, have visited. (I’m now very curious about Hobart, Tasmania, because of my conversation with them that night.)

This is a shot of their hotel and the lovely pool area. Unfortunately, it was too late in the day for us to hang out by the pool, but this hotel is definitely on my “return for a visit list” so we’ll have to check it out the next time we go.

Dinner that night was exceptional. A multi-course tasting menu featured fresh Malpeque oysters (I will talk more about these beauties in an upcoming Prince Edward Island story) paired with a scallop ceviche.

Mushroom soup and bib lettuce and beets from the garden topped with edible daylilies (who knew you could eat those).

Followed by a roasted quail and potato salad. And then old school surf and turf kicked up a notch with succulent butter-poached lobster with garden fresh veggies and a killer Bearnaise sauce. The dollops of green pesto that were added to this dish just brought the whole thing together. It was tasty and absolutely brilliant!

And then there was dessert. Pea semi-freddo? You betcha. And it was delicious – sweet and savory all in the same bite. But then since it was my birthday (really, the actual day not the day before or after), I asked if they could bring me out something chocolate. And that’s exactly what they did. (I know it was so unlike me to order a second dessert, but I split the chocolate mousse with Lynn.)

On To Campobello Island

We started off the morning (after a lovely breakfast at the Rossmount) by listening to “Siri” tell us how we should “drive” to Campobello Island. Usually I at least take a glimpse at an old road map to make sure she’s heading us in the correct direction, but this time I didn’t. That’s why about an hour later we ended up somewhere along the coast near Passamaquoddy Bay (yes, that is exactly how you spell it). We were in the town of L’Etete and saw signs for a ferry that we thought was going to Campobello. Since there was no reason not to trust “Siri,” we drove the car onto the ferry. Who knew the ferry was free, too? (Thank you Canada!)

When the ferry docked, we realized we were on another island, “Deer Island” to be precise. There’s got to be a bridge, I thought that would get us over to Campobello, right? There is a bridge, but not where we were! We also discovered that we needed to take another ferry and had just missed the one that would eventually take us over to Campobello. See there it is pulling away!

So we joined a growing line of cars and waited for the next boat. Since we were basically stuck on Deer Island, it’s not like we could turn around and go back. Nearly an hour and a half later (not the hour intervals as shown below), we drove the car onto ferry #2 and finally ended up where we wanted to be. And this time we had to pay about $27.00 for the crossing.

The Roosevelts

Once we finally got to Campobello we managed to finagle our way onto a tour of the house that had just started. I was impressed with the home and simple furnishings and the great lengths the Roosevelts took to spend summers there! (If it took us that long to get there from our morning start which was a mere 117 kilometers away, imagine what it was like for them to get to their summer home from New York or even Washington in the 1920’s via train and automobile!)

And since I love to cook and eat (as you all know), I particularly focused in on the kitchen. The stove Eleanor’s staff would cook meals on was still in the house. This is a thing of beauty. And looking at it, it actually has more burners and “counter space” than my current stove.

I also loved the bullhorn that was out on display. Apparently, Eleanor used it to call the children in for meals when they were out and about.

And with a view like this from the house, who wouldn’t want to be outdoors every single second of the day?

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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A Trip To See Lucy, A First Time Visit to Chautauqua Plus A Dose Of Frank Lloyd Wright

While I wasn’t a big “I Love Lucy” fan, I did understand the appeal of the show and her character. Therefore, when I found out earlier this summer that there was a museum devoted entirely to her career in her hometown of Jamestown, NY, I thought it might be worth a visit.

The Lucille Ball Desi Arnaz Museum is actually housed in two store-front buildings in downtown Jamestown, NY. I think the museum does a pretty good job showcasing not only her career but the relationship she had with Desi in producing the show. It was also fun to see some of the (recreated) stage sets they used during the filming.

Looking at the old issues of TV guide, I got a sense of how very popular she was during the 1950’s not to mention the countless movies (over 80!) she did even before the show!

I was particularly thrilled to learn she also was the first woman to run a major television production studio (Desilu Productions) that she retained even after she and Desi divorced.

On the way out of town we also paid a visit to the cemetery where she is buried. I have to assume the cemetery staff got tired of having to explain to countless visitors where her plot was located since they thought of a clever way to lead one to her. (Hint: follow the red hearts!)

Next Stop: Chautauqua Institution

While I had read about Chautauqua and all the programs they offer during the summer, until we moved full-time to the Mohawk Valley driving there from Long Island just wasn’t going to work for us.

Earlier in the summer I came across a play “One Man, Two Guvnors” that was being performed by the Chautauqua Theater Company and it sounded really fun so we got tickets for a Sunday matinee. (It’s a British play that premiered in London in 2011 based on a 1743 Italian comedy.)

Never having visited Chautauqua, I wasn’t sure what to expect. 1. I knew there was a religious component to the organization but I also knew there were lots of educational things (lectures, art classes, plus theatre and music events that one could attend. 2. I didn’t realize how big the place was (kind of like a small town) and that you could actually live there for the summer.

I did enjoy walking around and seeing the Victorian-style houses and we even walked into the Athenaeum Hotel to get a glimpse at the inside. (It’s less posh inside than it looks on the outside.

I also enjoyed looking at the flowers (lots and lots of flowers) that lined many of the walkways and in the gardens of many of the houses.

So bottom line, we enjoyed our visit and the play very much. And if next summer the theatre company puts on a play that we might like to see, I would definitely make the now not-so-distant journey. (It’s about a 4.5 hour drive as opposed to a 7 hour drive!)

Dinner on Lake Erie

I’m allowed to be a snob when it comes to Italian-American restaurants. My husband, Lynn, is first generation Italian-American (his mother was a WWII bride from Naples, Italy) and the true Italian food she cooked tasted nothing like what is being served in “Italian” restaurants even 40 years after I first met her.

So when I found a restaurant on Lake Erie that kind of had the feel of an Italian-American “red sauce” joint but the menu proved to be so very different, I was cautiously optimistic.

It was a Sunday night in the summer and there in the town of Hamburg, New York, with a view of Lake Erie is Lucia’s on the Lake. We had luckily made a dinner reservation that happened to coincide perfectly with the sunset that evening. Plus we were seated at a high table in the bar where the (noisy) party people were hanging out but at least we had a view.

Here’s our view that night:

And really, if you ignore the power lines, it was really very pretty. The food I have to say was amazing but pricey. So if you can skip ordering the high ticket items, go for some great cooking, a decent wine list and a view overlooking Lake Erie that can’t be beat.

I had the halibut, shrimp and clam special over linguine and Lynn, well, Lynn insisted he was ordering the beef “Stroganoff.” Last time I saw that on the menu was probably in the 1980’s at the original Russian Tea Room in New York City. That dish practically screams “winter” in my mind but sometimes the guy just has to eat meat. (I tasted it and the dish was really delicious but too heavy for me.)

Graycliff – a Frank Lloyd Wright Design

We had reserved tickets nearly 1 month in advance to tour Graycliff, a house that Frank Lloyd Wright built in the late 1920’s for Isabelle and Darwin Martin overlooking Lake Erie. We had visited the Martin house in Buffalo last year but never got around to seeing their “modest” lake home. (Mr. Martin worked for the Larkin Company which was a huge soap manufacturer in the late 1800’s.)

The house is now owned by a group called the Graycliff Conservancy. This non-profit was responsible for saving the property in the late 1990’s. It had been sold by the Martin family to a group of Hungarian priests in the 1950’s who established a boarding school on the grounds and the priests, unfortunately, took it upon themselves to make some cosmetic and structural changes to the complex.

Like many other Frank Lloyd Wright houses we’ve seen, there were massive renovations to be done to bring the house back to its original grandeur. While the Conservancy is not quite there yet (funding obviously being a big issue), they have accomplished enough I thought to give visitors like ourselves a glimpse into life on the lake during the “roaring 20’s.”

They’ve just started landscaping some of the front areas of the house and are still trying to furnish the house with authentic period pieces. A tour of the kitchen revealed this incredibly interesting sink. It seems that Isabelle was an avid gardener and loved having fresh flowers everywhere in the house. She had this sink designed so that when she was bringing in cut flowers to make arrangements, she could stand them up and give them a sip of water to boot. I think this is one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.

So this summer our “bucket” list got a bit shorter by visiting this Frank Lloyd Wright gem. We loved touring the house and hearing all the tales of the family who lived there.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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FLX Weekend

While we are technically only 2.5-3 hours away from the Finger Lakes area of upstate New York, sometimes it just seems too long to drive there and back in the same day. There are just so many interesting wineries to visit and good places to eat that it’s a shame to drive there only to have to turn around a few hours later to come back home. The challenge, therefore, is to find a cheap place to stay and use the leftover funds to spend on wine tastings and food.

That said, we started out a few weeks ago by driving to Seneca Lake and stopping for lunch at Ryan Williams Tasting Barn. The view was gorgeous, the menu was decent but the wine was kind of shall we say – boring? And this after tasting 4 different varietals!

We forged ahead. After lunch we had made arrangements to do a tasting at Forge Cellars (no pun intended!). I was initially kind of wary of having to not only make a reservation for a wine tasting (and pay in advance too) but I sucked it up to being “green” to the perhaps new and improved tasting process. Forge Cellars is slightly off the well-traveled “wine route” on Seneca Lake and they apparently like to keep themselves hidden as well since their building was modest with a simple sign on their door. That afternoon we sat down with 12 other people to try a variety of wines – mostly dry Rieslings. It was a fun experience and our tasting “educator” Julia was young and knowledgeable. I also liked the accompanying literature that described the wines we were tasting and the ability to take our own “tasting notes.”

After the tasting we drove to Watkins Glen and walked out onto the pier. It was a pretty day, there were lots of people milling about and lots of boats on the lake.

Bathroom Shower Curtain of the Year?

I’m not even sure how to describe what awaited us in the bathroom at the Microtel in Geneva we checked into that afternoon other than it was definitely the weirdest shower curtain “arrangement” I had ever seen. Right? Has anyone ever seen housekeeping do anything this creative?

Dinner at Kindred Fare

The real reason we even considered staying at the Microtel was that it was right next door to the restaurant we had a reservation at that night with seating at the chef’s counter. A lot of people I know don’t want to see how their food is prepared or what exactly the crew working the line is doing. I’m not one of those people. I LOVE to see how the chefs are making and plating the dishes.

Case in point: Look at Chef Max Spittler (he’s the one on the left) adding some liquid to one of 8 pans on the stove at the same time! Can you do that? (I can’t.)

Dinner that night was a decent duck pate with some pistachios, their version of fried calamari (loved the roasted red peppers and spicy chick peas with red onions that came with it.) And finally, beautifully sauteed scallops that were unfortunately just a tad too salty. (Note to ALL chefs: Please watch the salt!) Plus a decadent side dish of homemade gnocchi (perfectly cooked I might add) in a light cream sauce with Swiss chard.

Sonnenberg Gardens

The next morning before we headed towards Jamestown, we stopped to see Sonnenberg Gardens & Mansion in Canandaigua, New York. Luckily we had a wonderful docent who was more than happy to share all the family history (and gossip) with us about the house and the owners. We spent time looking at the house, but mostly enjoyed walking through the gardens.

This last little guy reminds me of fountains in Italy. Is that water spitting out of the mouth of whatever animal he is riding?

Imagine my dismay therefore when we took a look at the now-crumbling pool with little to no hope that it will ever be renovated. (The entire property is a New York State park.)

I think about what a fun time guests must have had swimming in this pool so many years ago on this lovely estate. There seemed to be many things that needed fixing both inside and outside but we walked around and looked at the “ruins” and simply enjoyed the history and architecture of the place.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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Adjusting

It’s been nearly seven weeks (but who’s counting!) since we moved permanently to the Red House. It has taken some time to get used to the fact that now, for the first time, we have no “home” to go back to on Long Island. That means we no longer lose half a Sunday (inevitably a beautiful Sunday afternoon) to get to Long Island so one, or both of us, could go to work Monday morning. Yeah!

I will still be working on Long Island and this week was the start of my Monday morning commute (much better than Sunday afternoons!) I will be staying with my parents (Thanks Mom and Dad!) 1-2 nights a week. Since I’ve been doing this “commute” nearly every weekend for 9 years, it’s actually pretty easy. Now it’s just different days of the week!

In the meantime, we are still hanging pictures (we have a lot of pictures). We even have frames that don’t have pictures!

Plus we’ve already started moving pictures around that we hung up a few years ago and decided we wanted something else in their place.

Although I do like the top drawing by my Uncle John, I prefer the drawing our daughter Rachel made of the Eiffel Tower juxtaposed with Edvard Munch’s The Scream. In her rendition, the “screamer” is in miniature form and floating on a cloud. (She was very young when she did that picture, so rule out any extracurricular party drugs, please.)

Closets? What Closets?

Trying to find room for everything (mostly clothes) in a house that has ONE walk-in closet downstairs (for coats originally but now housing all of Lynn’s hammers and drills and screwdrivers and nails, etc., etc.) is nearly impossible. There is also a small closet in the master bathroom but eventually it will be made into a linen closet.

That means, we have clothes stuck on rolling racks that are more suited for fashion shows. Meaning they should only be holding a couple of designer outfits and not the shirts and pants and dresses and coats we’ve hung on them.

We already broke one such rack when it crumbled from the weight of too many sweaters and jeans. Just look at it!

Garden Update

In the midst of all the unpacking and arranging and rearranging, I’ve tried to tend to the garden and am happy to report that for the first time in many years, I have zucchini! They are still little but I have hope they won’t be eaten by birds or insects or a bunny if he or she manages to get inside the fence.

We also have peas growing quite well, broad beans that are doing okay, and tomatoes that are coming along quite nicely.

Then there’s the lettuce. When our son Nicholas came up to visit, he thinks the lettuce we grow is the best he’s ever had. Glad he likes it and the simple salads I make too!

And look at all the flowers.! We have day lily’s in a brilliant orange, and Stella D’Oro ones in a gorgeous yellow. I really love flowers and those growing in the garden right now not only add a welcome splash of color against all the green fields but they just bring the garden to life.

I’ve also put up what Lynn refers to as the “cemetery fence” and since he has a sense of humor, he will start humming an appropriate cemetery “dirge,” usually something along the lines of Elton John’s “Funeral for a Friend.”

This is due to the fact that the last three summers I planted roses, the deer have taken it upon themselves to eat them – thorns at all. I was tired of spending the money (rose bushes are expensive!) and taking the time to plant them, only to have the deer “help themselves” so to speak.

As you can see, the deer love to wander not only on the back 4+ acres, but in the front lot, too close to the street for their own good which makes me very nervous for them and the drivers! We have a lot of big trucks (think milk!) and RV’s and campers that roll up and down the steep street especially since there are a lot of farms further north and a very desirable campground about 15 minutes from us.

A New Neighbor

In the meantime, we’ve finally learned the name of an elderly neighbor (Helen) who I would always wave to coming up from Long Island because she was usually sitting on her porch (at least in the summer). Helen told us she had been a dressmaker in the day when there were not one (!) but at least four dress shops in town. (Now we have zero.) She also said she had lived in her current home for about 20 years since she had taken care of her mother-in-law. She is now by herself but even in the winter I see her with a little shovel pushing the snow off the sidewalk onto the street.

“Do you know how old I am,” she asked us as we were walking into town to partake in the town’s annual cheese festival.” I hesitated thinking she was probably in her 90’s but before I could answer she blurted out, “I’m 89!” Followed by “do you want to see the inside of my house?”

We did not but assured her it was kind of her to invite us in. In the meantime, she pointed out the three garages she had (at least one of which she rented out) and the fact that no one could “do” stucco anymore. “See those cracks on the side of my house?” she asked. “That was from the earthquake.” I looked at Lynn but didn’t say a word.

As it turns out, he later told me that there was in fact an earthquake in upstate New York, sometime in the early 1980’s. He says he remembers “feeling it,” when he was living in Rome, New York. I had already moved from Syracuse and was working in New York City, where the only rumbling I was experiencing was from the subway.

Little Falls Cheese Festival

Although this has been an ongoing event for the last five years, it was only our third time attending the festival. The city shuts down a good chunk of Main Street so vendors can set up booths selling anything and everything cheese-related plus other items, too.

Luckily, the weather cooperated so the turnout was nice. We bought some cheese (how couldn’t we?) and visited with people we knew from nearby farmer’s markets.

This year’s winners included (once again) great goat cheese from Jones Family Farm.

As well as a new guy out of Troy, New York, (R&G Cheese Makers) making some pretty amazing mozzarella. (Little to no salt plus lots of flavors = a very good product.)

And last but not least a goat cheese from Cochran Farm 1790 that is appropriately called “Mohawk Mist” which was pretty darn good.

Best of all, after all this cheese and meeting new neighbors, it’s lovely to be able to walk along the pathway by the Eric Canal (yes, that Erie Canal). It’s very peaceful by the water and being able to spend time outdoors on a beautiful sunny day is a gift.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.