On Our Way Home

On Our Way Home

But first, Niagara Falls. Tomorrow we hit the road again. Even though the color may hit peak next week, we are ready to go. Probably ready to see and do new things. Niagara Falls seems close enough and sorta on our way (to I-81) home. Guess we just got this thing about Canada.

Our other quest is finding the perfect RV for us. We are pretty convinced that the Fleetwood Pace Arrow is the one-just which model. Of course, we would like the gourmet kitchen, massive bathroom, and infinite closet space. We will settle for enough kitchen counter space to leave the espresso machine up, enough toilet room space to execute basic hygiene with the door closed, and enough long closet for my pants to hang without the last 10 inches crumpled on the floor. We are passing the Fleetwood factory, so thought we would drop in. Will keep you posted.

It has been wonderful for me to revisit the Northeast Kingdom. Especially wonderful to get together with old friends, Debbie and Marek, and meet their kids as teen/young adult. Reminds me how precious old friends are.

I am reminded that the Northeast Kingdom is magical. That it is a hard place to make a living, and sometimes a hard place to live. That people live here because it is magical. I can show you the rainbows. I cannot show you the moon looking so huge you think you might touch it, or the quiet magic of winter-so quiet you can hear the snow fall. So still and crisp and perfect. I cannot take you where Marek finds the wild Chantrell mushrooms. I’ll show you what color I can, but I cannot give you the experience of hearing the Canada Geese honking overhead as you bring in the final remnants of the garden on a colorful fall day. Or the loon on Lake Willoughby. Just know, it is magic. I also cannot show you a moose, because we still haven’t seen one.

I am still digesting all the memories being here brings back. I was talking to the dowsers at the Fairbanks Museum Old Time Crafts Day last weekend. I was asking them to help me to remember the dowser who dowsed my well. This was no problem. Paul Sevigney. He is well known in these parts. Was a dowser and state representative. As we were talking, one of the dowsers said how she knew that she knew me. Sure enough, a former student. Memories of the best classes I taught here. As we talked, the woman who moved into the old schoolhouse in Glover after we moved out (into our unfinished home) passed by. She did not recognize me. (The schoolhouse burned, but she and her two kids got out.) Later in the week, a man stood right by me in a convenience store. I knew that I knew him, but couldn’t remember his name. He didn’t recognize me. I kinda like being a fly on the wall sometimes. He came to my house when Helen and Ed were there with several of his music making and drinking buddies. History.

I’m sure that Marcia and I need to travel a lot more before we find our “summer home”. I know that the Northeast Kingdom will be in the running for our place. Hope you enjoy these photos we took from the lookout at Mt Hor and along Long Pond.