Last week, wanting to fly the coop, we decided to take a little ride up the road a piece to one of our favorite destinations: Vermont. Of course, it is “touristy” this time of year, which is a good thing for the locals, as it keeps the economy going.

Unlike New Hampshire, there is not a whole lot of building going on. What there is, in the northeast section of Vermont right now, are fields of alfalfa, and roadsides just full of wildflowers such as white Queen Anne’s Lace, blue Chickory, and yellow Goldenrod.

We passed close by to Smuggler’s Notch, which is a fun place to visit, if you’ve never been there before. We also took a rain check on stopping at the Cabot Cheese outlet which is a lovely place to stop, if one has thought ahead and brought a cooler to keep the cheese cold.

Strangely enough, we had a couple of pre-planned stops, in mind. One was a place that sells the most delicious hot dogs, boiled in cider. Well, we would have to change that word “sells” to “used to sell.” Sadly enough, they no longer do this. I am not even a fan of hot dogs but theirs were superb!

Then, across the street from them, there is a wonderful antiques shop. We can also have to change that word “is,” to the past tense of “was” — there is now a “For Sale” sign on the building, which is completely empty.

How is it that, in our mind’s eye, we expect everything to stay the same? I’m still bemoaning the fact that Week’s Dairy, just down the street from us, sold out (it must be twenty years ago, now), and they closed their little restaurant that had the best Chicken Croquettes around, as well as hot fudge sundaes. I must be hungry, or rather, I guess, I could feel that way just thinking of their food!

Vermont is one of our favorite places on earth. The blue hills in the distance, the still working farms, the green expanses of land. They are a sight to behold.

Unexpectedly, as we were riding along, I told Jim to “Stop here!” I had spotted a sign that said “Textile and costume exhibition.” This was free, and was contained in a part of a building that used to be a barn. There were articles of old clothing, hanging from the rafters, and pieces of needlework, placed on a ladder, and an old wash wringer that made me stop and give thanks for modern washing machines. Apparently, these goods belonged to the family and were on display for interests’ sake only. An attached shop sold maple candy, sweatshirts, postcards, and teacups.

At the end of the day, I know that I am a country girl. This big city stuff is for the birds, or for those who enjoy that kind of living. To me, a glimpse of a country farm in Vermont is a vision of heaven on earth. If I find out they have Internet cable, I’m moving there!

Pat

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