Item 1: H and I cleaned out the old cardboard boxes in the garage yesterday. We had a LOT between my many moves and his, and the fact that if we buy anything that comes in a box, I save it, in case we need it for that oft-fantasized day when we will move to a home of our own. In 8o-plus degree heat, I cut boxes into flats, folded wine inserts and climbed over the old wood stove that I bought because it was pretty and the dog kennel (long unused) to get to the appliance boxes that were stowed behind filing cabinets that hold papers I haven't looked at in years, and a bookcase of Ball jars and squeak ease and car gunk cleaner . H stood in the attic of the garage where it was well over 90 degrees and folded and stacked and organized boxes and stray book shelves and placed everything in size order. We have a substantial car load or two to take to the dump on Monday including the speakers from my college stereo and an old pet carrier and the carrier for the top of my beloved Jeep. Oh yes, and we also picked the last of the early apples. Eventually I expect to make sauce.
Item 2: Our friend Susan sent an article from the NY Times on the farms that have been devastated by the hurricane that will be unable to send produce to the Greenmarkets. One goat cheese maker says that her goats were traumatized and she will not have milk for their fresh goat cheese. Some of that milk comes from the farm that I used to live on. The woman that bought it has about 70 goats and an assortment of chickens and ducks and a horse and a mule and two pairs of mini donkeys. She says her parents wouldn't let her have pets when she was a kid, so she is over-compensating now. She and her husband both have Ph.D.'s but couldn't find teaching jobs, so she started the farm after having done a wide range of small part-time jobs as a vet tech, book seller, feed store salesman etc. He went to Pharmacy school and is now working at one of the local pharmacies. They sell goat's milk cheese on the weekends at the Farmer's market in town. In any case, their goats are fine. She has a new baby and as an older parent, she is trying to figure out how to play with her infant. I suggested one of those cat toys with a rod and a string attached to a feather. Maybe one of those catnip pillows.
Item 3: H and I went to Manchester to have breakfast in a place called Up for Breakfast, above a consignment store and nearly next door to the craft gallery we like: Epoch. They had a waiting list and we were sixth, having gotten in before some of the larger parties because there were only two of us. Up for Breakfast has about 15 tables and probably serves about 200 people a day. They use about 350 pounds of potatoes a week which are cut into home fries by hand - daily- and they have soy milk and vegetarian sausage on the menu as well as Andouille and Elk suasage and vegetarian and regular bacon. The raspberry jam, made by Bonnie, the owner, is outstanding. As usual, I asked too many questions...
Item 4: We looked at a house we had seen on the MLS. We both thought it a possibility from the drive-by we did, though it isn't in our beloved Middletown. It's in a development of sorts but has a small piece of land and is wooded and is on a flat road that would make plowing easy. On the listing sheet, it looks as though it has a lot of light through multiple French windows, but it isn't my dream of an old house and old barn on old Vermont land. Still...
Item 5: I have been avoiding email today. I checked it in passing as I went on the internet to check to see if the breakfast place was open. An old work friend who has been a good "contact" if not a personal friend, and whose work I respect, and who is someone I would like to know better, sent out a gang email. The Art Hop next weekend is dedicated to someone with the same last name. It turns out to be his 12 year old son who died suddenly "while exploring potholes."
Yesterday Herb wrote of my dreams. I dreamed last night that I was watching a video and a young child (maybe 3) was exploring with a pail or a shovel in his hand. In the last scene of the video he was on a mountain ridge with ocean behind him, and that was followed by a white screen with black type. I don't remember his dream name. Let's call him Sam Smith. "Sam Smith died on July 12, MMXI.
Just another day in the neighborhood.
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