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Vermont Adventure, Take 1: Arrival

Got here yesterday in the evening and it was still light enough for me to appreciate the view. The sun sets across the lake that’s maybe a half-mile straight line from where I’m sitting on the deck as I type this. It’s beautiful here, and though that’s not necessarily a change from the usual (it’s beautiful where I live as well), its novelty acts as an exaggerating agent. I hope it lasts the full month.

The cabin is two rooms: part kitchen, part work area, part bedroom, two rocking chairs, a separate bathroom and a walk-in closet obviously intended for more than one person’s stuff. We brought our clothes in laundry baskets. The town of Belmont, Vermont, which is where I am, is basically an intersection of two roads and a small area surrounding. As I said to The Patient Mrs. when I got out of the car last night, when she gets away, she really gets away.

It’s a ski resort area, so of course it’s empty now, the heatwave engulfing the Eastern Seaboard having made its way too up here in the mountains, and the cabin is on a piece of property belonging to an elderly couple the masculine half of which I believe built both dwellings. I could never do that. I do this instead, and I don’t at all doubt that’s my loss. We can’t all be useful.

But I’m here and shortly to get breakfast at this or that local whathaveyou. Last night for dinner The Patient Mrs. and I successfully tested out the local Irish pub, which I’m glad to say had Boddingtons on draft and a burger brushed in pure maple syrup. This is, as I said, a beautiful place. More when I have it.

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