October 1, 2003 - Green Mountain Journey

Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

October 1 , 2003 - Green Mountain Journey

Last week my dad and I drove to Vermont to visit my brother. This is the journal I kept during my trip.

My brother, his wife and Dad checking out the quarry

Day Two: Lay of the Land (Sunday, Sept. 21)

The day was bright and clear, so we took advantage of it. My brother and his wife drove us around the countryside, pointing out landmarks and treating us to some scenery: low rolling hills, red-roofed farmhouses, quaint countryside.

I sat in the back seat writing but still lifting my eyes whenever anyone said, "Ooh! Look!" I'm not used to writing things longhand any more -- I always type. This unfamiliar exercise is a strain. I haven't written this much longhand since I was a small town reporter, and that experience was enough to deteriorate my handwriting past acceptable into abominable.

There were days I got back to the office after covering an assignment and couldn't decipher my own handwriting. This does not bode well for my future biographers.

Among the sites we encountered were the most photographed church in Vermont, which is in a tiny town called Orange. The church is ornate, for its time period, with carefully painted trim. Naturally, we took pictures of it.

Across the street was an old house in disrepair. In the top window was a mannequin. On the door, a notice. We walked closer to investigate. The notice said the owner was permitted to remove items. We figured this meant they'd already lost the property, probably because of failing to pay taxes.

Throughout the day, we saw several similar buildings, suggestive of former glory. Real fixer-uppers, with the emphasis on fix.

The goal had also been to stop at yard sales, but we only found two. At the first, I bought some picture frames, two cat masks and three queen-sized bedspreads, $5 for the lot. The yard saler told us she was ill and had lost 30 pounds. She chain smoked as she talked to us.

It was only later that I discovered the bedspreads smell so strongly of cigarette smoke that I'll be lucky if I'll ever get the smell out. Oh, well. The cat masks and picture frames alone were worth $5.

At the second yard sale, I bought a pair of mirrored shades that reminded me of a state trooper. I thought they might be good for a Halloween costume. Later, talking to my sister on the phone, we decided that I would be a NYPD sergeant and she would be my ward, Martha Stewart. We will probably put lace on the handcuffs.

We returned to the house for a little lunch. Then we took a hike in the nearby woods with our dogs. Una was properly grateful; she had a big smile on her face the whole time.

We walked up to the granite quarry -- or, I should say, former granite quarry. It's fallen into disuse and is now filled with water.

Then we descended and found a little swimming hole my brother knew about. His dog, Pulsar, who is Una's mom, went swimming. Una didn't. It wasn't hot enough, I suppose. And besides, she's afraid of water.

After the hike, we returned to my brother's place and all took naps. We had considered maybe doing a little shopping, then going to a nearby maple farm, but we slept too long.

Instead, we made dinner and rented a movie, "Hysterical Blindness," starring Uma Thurman and Juliette Lewis. Great movie, if a little sad. Uma and Juliette really got the Jersey Girl down.

We had some Oktoberfest beer from Otter Creek, a local brewing company. We were inspired to do so by the heavy amount of drinking in "Hysterical Blindness."

A chill was in the air when we gave the dogs their last outside tour of the day.

"I might have to turn on the heat today," my brother said. I was glad I'd packed warm clothes.

Dad, Una, my brother and Pulsar near the swimming hole