My sister and her husband were here for the weekend. They came in on Friday and tooled around Burlington while the b.h. and I were at work, and then we all went for dinner at the Local Restaurant. It was a fabulous meal, made more fabulous by my recently quitting working there. They say familiarity breeds contempt, and not having been in that building for a week and a half, I will agree. It felt a lot more comfortable knowing I didn't have to come back again until I wanted to. We stuffed ourselves silly and went home to bed.
Saturday we both went to work again while my sister and her husband went to yoga, the bookstore, and the farmer's market. I envied them from behind the counter at the Local Grocery, but my day was fairly easy and ended early.
We went to dinner that night at a nearby barbecue restaurant, then came home and took the dogs for a hike in the woods. After that we watched the hockey game, which the Blackhawks won, and then turned in. On Sunday the b.h. went off with some friends from the CS, while me sister and her husband and I took the dogs and went hiking. We went up to Owl's Head, from which I took this picture:



The view was lovely, but the hiking rather sucked. We made a couple different stops only to find nearly impassable trails and lots of mud. Ah well, the quarter mile up to the lookout point was plenty of exercise for all of us- especially Wyatt.

The b.h. made dinner on Sunday night, while the rest of us sat around reading and napping. A lovely time all around.

My sister and her husband left on Monday morning, and the b.h. and I took the dogs to yet another lovely Green Mountain State Park. I took quite some time cleaning out the car and packing water and snacks and long sleeves, etc. We had no real plan, but went off on a highway where we thought we had remembered there being a park. The sky was very hazy due to some wildfires up in Quebec, and we hoped that driving further South would make for clearer views. No such luck, it turned out, and also we were wrong about the park. After it became clear that we were mistaken, the b.h. pulled out our atlas and found a way to get to a different park nearby. The road was long and winding and bumpy, and the dogs were starting to get antsy by the time we finally got there. We were thrilled to see that there were no other cars or people anywhere as we drove in. (Even the park staff had been given the day off for the holiday, apparently.)
The sun was shining and there was a nice breeze as I leapt from the car and opened the back door to let the dogs out. And then, reaching into the back seat I realized, with great horror, that we had forgotten their leashes.
We let them out anyway, since there were no other people or cars, and eventually fashioned a leash for Kilgore from some bungee cords in our emergency roadside kit. Wyatt is no worry to us, but Kilgore is both quick and agile, and neither of us had any desire to lose him on a trail that marked a Bear's Den as one of the points of interest.
You might be surprised at how long three quarters of a mile can be. Having lived here for just over a year, I am only surprised that I continue to be surprised. Anyway, we all made it in one piece, and the drive home was quiet.

I never did get the tires swapped out on Tuesday, but luckily I got up very early and did that today. Tuesday I went to yet another spot on the river with A and her dog (Sushi) and Wyatt and KG. Wyatt was having none of it. I don't know if it was the number of children present or the muddy, squishy bank, but he simply was not enjoying himself. I ran him home and went back with KG. KG and I did a lot of swimming. It was around ninety degrees outside, so rather than just wading I actually went in all the way, paddling around next to the dog. I think it freaked him out at first, but since he isn't very good at bringing back the sticks I throw for him, I went after him and took them back myself. It was really fun, though I realized that I might need to invest in actual swimwear this year since I had a lot of trouble keeping my shorts up.
Today I dropped the car off at the tire place and walked the boys down to a frontage road by the river. There were a couple other people there with dogs, so it was more fun than usual. I got back and ran the lawnmower over the spot out back in front of the shed. It had grown fairly tall, but I was loathe to cut it since there are a lot of wild strawberries out there, but it had gotten to a point where it looked really crappy, and my sister and her husband are coming in this week, so I broke down and did it.
So yeah, my sister and her husband are coming tomorrow. They are insane enough to fly on a holiday weekend, and I have both Sunday and Monday off, so there you go. The forecast looks fantastic right now, but having lived in this state almost exactly a year now, I have come to realize that forecasts mean nothing. As such, I am making a kind of rough list of things we could do, from which we will choose according to our moods and the weather. Mostly I think there will be eating, drinking, and hiking.
I will work tomorrow and Saturday, then again on Tuesday, and then Wednesday I have a class all day (for which I am being paid) in cheese tasting. Seriously. Not only is my job paying for the class, but I get paid a full day for going. I am thrilled. It's about an hour away, and the b.h. is going to take the bus down and meet me when I am done because - brace yourself - we are going to New York City to see our friends (J. Roddy Walston and the Business) play a rock show on a boat. I could not be more excited. The boat leaves from 22nd and FDR, and then goes under the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges (plus another that I can't remember), rounds the Statue of Liberty, and returns to dock around 11pm. I am seriously giddy. Also, my friend K's birthday is on Thursday, so we are going to spend the day in the city with her. I can't wait. Can't wait!

I am having a very difficult time keeping up with writing. It's funny how quitting a job doesn't give me any extra time. I mean, I now have more time, but "extra"? Nah. The weather has been incredible. Last week I spent Monday with my friend A. We took the dogs to a groomer that's about forty five minutes away, then went into the nearest town and had pastries and coffee. When we picked the dogs up we brought them to a little lake on the way home. I was wearing sunscreen, of course, but I still managed to grow more freckles. On Tuesday I did some housework and then took my boys to the nature center so they could swim in the river. The rest of the week was pretty exhausting, but again with perfect weather and going to the woods or the river every free moment.
On Saturday the b.h. and I went out to Wakefield after I finished work. We had dinner and saw Iron Man. That town is beautiful, as are most parts of this state. The drive was gorgeous.
Yesterday I wrapped up the rest of our winter clothes and broke out the summer ones, and went out and bought herbs and a couple of tomato plants, which I brought home and promptly planted. I bought a tomato that is already large and starting to bloom. Cheating? Well, yes, but I live in a state with one of the shortest growing seasons, so I don't really feel bad about it. I will be a cheater with fresh tomatoes in my salad by next week.
I am stalling right now. I have Springsteen Storytellers on the DVD, and I really need to go swap out the tires on my car. Still using snow tires, which have, I think, finally gone out of season. I just do not feel like being responsible.
Ah well, off I go.

This is great. Not exactly what I have come to expect from the Ted site, but hilarious.

At long last, Athens photos:



What remains of the Theater. The facade had just been refinished before it burned. Rebuilding is already in progress.





My delicious and nutritious lunch at The National: Lentils and goat cheese, greens and root veg with toasted sunflower seeds.



The b.h., meantime, was on a trash diet. This is his chorizo chili dog with a side of fries (which I was happy to help him eat. I'm not that good.)


This was taken at the In Laws' place: Just an example of how fantastic my new camera is.

These are "Before" photos of the scarecrow. They don't really do it justice.






For the cat, wedding day was just like any other - with an additional hundred or so extra bothersome humans.


This snake was a lot more bothered by us than we were by it. Poor thing must have been quite confused.


Tying wishes to the scarecrow.



Bride and groom light the scarecrow...



Our wishes go up to the sky...

So now that I have finished catching up on vacation posts that are nearly three weeks old (minus the photos, I just remembered- feck!), I should say that I have turned in my resignation at the Local Restaurant. It was not a difficult decision, I was surprised to find, once I realized that the b.h. was fully in support of it.

The thing is, I work around 52 hours a week, and have been doing so for six months now. Which was fine, until it started to be a regular occurrence that I never had the tools to do my job, and was rarely in a position to give my customers good service. Add to this that the accounting department decided that we were not going to be able to take our credit card tips home at the end of the night (almost ALL of our tips on on credit cards), and that we would not be allowed to tip anyone else in cash (how that is the decision of anyone else I have no idea). Did I mention that we have no General Manager? That basically no one is steering the proverbial ship? Yeah- that guy left in December, along with the person who was in charge of catering. Anyway, I was still willing to go along, waiting for things to get better when they got more help. I was put in charge of choosing the wines by the glass - something that I was really excited at the prospect of, and which I spent an inordinate number of my precious free hours researching. I had done several tastings, analyzed costs, and researched pairing with the food on both of our menus, and then was suddenly verbally shit upon by a manager last week during a tasting.

She apparently had no idea what was going on and thought that I was offering an unsolicited opinion about the current list, and therefore chose to snap at me, embarrassing me in front of my manager and co-workers and a representative from a wine company. When I wrote her a carefully worded and completely professional e-mail basically protesting this treatment and telling her that I expect her to behave in a more professional manner, I received in reply a poorly written and unprofessional non-apology. It did not address my point at all, but did say that I had taken her remark out of context, and then went on for two paragraphs proving that I had taken it completely as it was meant, and that she is a manager and I am not, blah blah blah. So yeah, I gave my notice that night.
I have one more shift (this Saturday), an iron in another fire already, and a deep desire for a more sane life. I will now have two days off a week, with summer (supposedly) just around the corner, and my sister and brother-in-law visiting at the end of the month. Joy.

This brings me enormous joy. (Click on it to make the image larger)

On the same day I heard the story from the previous post, I also heard one about a guy who walks around town on these big crazy mechanical stilts. I don't remember his name, but apparently he was in jail- "Adult Jail, when he was a juvenile," according to West Coast Karen, my overconcerned co-worker. And he is also mentally ill to some degree.
What, you might ask, would cause the authorities to jail a mentally ill teenager? I'm so glad you asked!
He was arrested for grave robbing. But according to WCK, he didn't actually dig up a grave. He broke into a mausoleum (devil's in the details, don't you know) and stole a skull. He was going to make a bong out of it to give his friends for a wedding present.
I think Montpeculiar needs a better nickname. Like Monpetotallyfuckedup.

I had been wondering what happened to Tim, a guy that works at the LG. I used to see him every Saturday morning first thing, and since we weren't friends or anything it took me a few weeks to figure out he wasn't around anymore. What happened? I'm so glad you asked! It seems that Tim had been in an accident. He was apparently driving a stolen car in the wrong direction in the middle of the night on the Interstate without headlights on when he struck an oncoming car. Remarkable, nobody was hurt. Tim then leapt from the car and ran barefoot into the woods. Seriously.
I guess I should have known from his 9/11 Conspiracy Theories that he wasn't right, huh?

The Wedding was on Saturday. We went by D & S's house (they were getting married in the backyard) early in the day to help set up. The yard looked amazing- everything was in bloom, and the tables had vases full of flowers that had come from their yard, as well as several donated from neighbors. Also, rather than using paper plates and plastic cups and forks, or having to rent dishes, D & S had a huge collection of dishes from thrift stores. And in keeping with a tradition that D and his daughter have had for years, a friend of their s had made them a very large scarecrow. Guess were asked to write a wish on a piece of paper and tie it to the scarecrow, which would then be burned after sundown. There will eventually be photos of this, but let's face it: I'm way behind on this blog, and I'm downstairs and the photos are on the computer upstairs, so it's probably not going to happen tonight.
So the wedding was beautiful and amazing, and everyone had a lovely time. Afterward, the b.h. and I went down to Little Kings to see some friends play. We didn't plan to be there for the Athens Americana Festival, but I'm sure glad we were. Bo Bedingfield and whatever the band is calling itself now were fantastic. I had forgotten how good a guitar player that Marcus Thompson was, too. Damn. Good times.
We eventually met up with A, and followed her back to her house at the end of the night to sleep.
Sunday we slept in, and then kicked around with A for a bit, and eventually headed over to the In Laws. Pa In Law was ill, so we took Ma In Law out to El Sol. (Yes, I ate Mexican food four times in a week. But I hadn't had any since January, so if you measure it out that way... yeah, I am aware that makes no sense.)
Monday was actually pretty easy. We didn't have to get up at the crack of dawn, the drive to the airport was so easy that we actually stopped and ate at The Earl in ATlanta for lunch (a treat we did not expect to have time for), and returning our car and getting to our gate was remarkably easy.
The flight was quick, mostly because I slept through all but twenty minutes of it, and when we landed in Boston we decided to seek out Oleana, a restaurant that the b.h. had been interested in for some time. He bought the cookbook awhile back and has been making some incredible meals from it.
We had no reservations, which we stupidly didn't realize would be a problem, since it was Monday night, but as it turned out we got the last available table.
Dinner was excellent, the coffee was strong, and we left feeling fat and sassy.

On Wednesday, I went to Ike & Jane for a biscuit and a doughnut. I picked up an extra cup of coffee for the b.h. and headed over to pick him up at the In-Laws.
We went downtown to poke around a bit, had lunch at Senor Sol with Jared, and then went shopping for a tie for the b.h. and some shoes to match my dress for the wedding on Saturday.
We had dinner with M and L and their daughter at Big City Bread. My good friend A was finally back in town, so she met up with us as well. I wish I could say I remembered what I ate, but it's been so long now that I have only a vague memory of mac and cheese and a waiter that would not shut up. He was very nice, but he was trying so hard that it was actually painful. Anyway.
We went back to A's house and dropped our suitcases and whatnot, then we all went out for a drink or two. We stayed at A's that night, woke up after she'd gone to work, and once again had Ike and Jane for breakfast.
Thursday night we had drinks at The Manhattan with Mr. Dave, which is always a pleasure. We were met by a few friends, has a great time, swapped stories, etc. It felt like home.
Friday I did some shopping at the local Thrift Store, where I found a ridiculous number of great things that fit me for very little money. Fabulous. Also hit the T@rget with Shayne. After that we went downtown to Cutters, where I finally got to see JB and Bo and JT. Had a quick beer and then went to pick up the b.h. at D & S's house.
We had some dinner and then went down to meet my good friends J and B at Flicker. Drinks were had, memories shared, other people I miss came by. Lovely. The night ended with a set from Dave Marr at Little Kings. I was standing there, outside, New Belgium's Ranger IPA in hand, wearing a t-shirt and a light cardigan sweater while it snowed on our dogsitter back in Vermont.
That is the Athens I miss. Sigh.

Tuesday started bright and somewhat early. The b.h. and I went to Ike & Jane for some egg and cheese biscuits and donuts. We met our friends M & L and their daughter, who was hilarious. The b.h. got an Elvis donut- peanut butter, banana,and bacon. The weather was perfect.
After breakfast we went to see the b.h.'s parents. We hung out for a bit with his dad, then went out to run some errands. We stopped by at the accountant, which as you may recall, is always an adventure. Next up was lunch at The Grit. Golden Bowls all around, then a quick stop at the Local Liquor Store to say hello to my old friends and co-workers. Sam came in a few minutes after we did. He was all in a rush, as usual, but hilarious as ever and it was nice to see him.
Next we picked up more coffee and headed back to the in-laws. We stayed there for dinner and some bad teevee, then headed downtown to see some more friends. Spent most of our time at Flicker, where I discovered the new IPA from New Belgium. Delicious, it was. Ran into a coupe people who had returned to town after we left. That was fun. At the end of the night, I drove the b.h. back to the in-laws, then I drove to S & T's house to sleep. (The In-Laws have four cats, and I am highly allergic, so it seemed like a bad idea to try and sleep there). S & T were asleep when I got there, and they were gone before I got up in the morning.

Will Johnson and Anders Parker played a show at a house here in Montpeculiar the night before we left for Athens. The house was gorgeous and the people were very nice. I was wearing a shirt from someplace in Athens, and as per usual somebody came up to me and asked if I was from there. Yes. "Do you know so and so and his wife? They own whats-it-called." I don't, but a lot of my friends work there. Neat.
The show was beautiful and hilarious. I love a quiet, intimate setting for quiet intimate music. The guys were both obviously comfortable and told great stories between songs, and the crowd was respectful but fun. Lovely. I wish we could do that more often.
We decided to fly out of Boston. This required a three hour drive to the airport, but it saved us about five hundred dollars on the plane tickets and made for direct flights in both directions, which is a luxury I will gladly pay for.
The morning was mostly uneventful, as was the drive. We were fueled by pastries and coffee and neither of us had had anywhere near enough sleep. Fortunately we make an excellent team and were able to find our way into the airport without incident and with plenty of time to spare.
The flight was mostly uneventful, as was the car rental and the drive into Athens. We went immediately to Sr. Sol, our favorite Mexican restaurant, where we were met by our old friend Adam. Adam was going out of town for the week to work, so this was our last opportunity to see him until the weekend.
The food was fantastic and it was great catching up with Adam, and afterward we bade him farewell and went to Todd and Shayne's where we would be spending the night. We stopped on the way to buy beer, and then proceeded to crash their otherwise quiet Monday night, riling up the dogs and generally making a big loud mess while we came in and dumped our bags. Shayne had just returned from a weekend on an island off the coast of Georgia, where she was doing hair for a music video shoot. Her stories had me laughing until I was sick. After we had polished off a couple of beers, we headed into the guest room, finally decompressed enough to get some sleep. As I leaned over to turn out the light, I looked at the b.h. and said "Goddammit this is Just Like Home." He grinned and agreed and we both went to sleep.

Sunday I had a paid day off. Some holiday or other. Anyway, I took the dogs out for a walk in the woods behind the house. It was great fun and when we got in far enough I decided to take Kilgore's leash off so he could run around. He immediately left the trail, sniffing furiously and heading over the edge of a fairly steep decline. I started after him, shouting for him to come back. When I crested the ridge, he was at the base of a tree, nosing through an enormous pile of what looked like bird feathers. I ran up to him, re-attaching his leash and realizing with horror that the pile was actually fur. A lot of it. I dragged Kilgore back to the trail, trying hard not to see what was under it. We turned back toward the house after that. After putting a load of laundry in the washer, we headed back out, this time to the park. The river was too cold even for Kilgore to swim, but we had a great time running the trails and I took a few pictures.
On Monday, the b.h. and I went into Burlington. It was warm and lovely and we got some lunch and then headed over to the lake to walk around. D and A were meeting us later for The Hold Steady, but we had lots of time to kill. We had dinner at the Daily Planet and bought some beer at Healthy Living, and were so efficient that we were finished with everything we needed to do well before show time. We headed to the club early and hung out in the back, hilariously tired considering that in Athens we would never have even been out yet.
The show was great, even though they've lost some of their umph without Franz. I somehow managed to fix the crick in my neck by bobbing my head and bouncing up and down. I guess I could save the money I spend on the chiropractor by just getting out more.

"Smell this." It was not a request, but an order, and one that came at me from the side while I was engaged with another customer.
"Excuse me?"
"I want you to smell this and tell me if you think it's okay." She extended a small plastic tub, the kind we use for bulk cheeses. I looked without reaching for it.
"Is that the Bulgarian feta?"
"Yes."
"Then I don't have to smell it. We sell twenty pounds a week. It's fine."
"It smells strong," she sniffed, raising a used kleenex to her raw, red nose.
"It's a strong cheese," chimed in DeeDee. She gets defensive with customers sometimes. (I think if I stay there for five years I might get a tad short-tempered as well.)
"I know it is. I buy it all the time. But it smells different." She set the tub down and reached into her bag for another kleenex, blowing her nose audibly enough that heads turned in the deli. I picked it up and sniffed it, just to make her happy.
"You don't have to buy it, but I'm telling you it's fine." I was smiling (on the outside), but DeeDee was apoplectic. I stepped between her and the customer, ostensibly to reach for something, but it was really because I was afraid she was going to say something else.
The woman turned and walked away, still not satisfied, but with cheese in hand.
"It's always something with that one," Dee muttered. "Last time she was telling me that the Willoughby smelled off."
This left me wondering how in the hell one would know if Willoughby was "off". It smells like a corpse when it's at it's best. I kept quiet since Dee seemed to be on to something else.

I'm on the couch right now with a glass of Dona Paula Reserve Malbec and Lucinda Williams Radio on my LastFm. (If you haven't yet, do look into lastfm.com. It beats pandora by a mile). For dinner, I had two tofu hotdogs (a lovely pairing with the malbec, I assure you) and some rosemary lemon bread with the first fresh local goat cheese of the season. I am experiencing something near to nirvana at the moment. Spring is in the air. Everything has that fresh dirt smell that makes me itch to get in a garden. Mostly though, I think I'm just happy to be alone and away from work.

Honestly, people were going crazy today. We're between two holidays, which means we're particularly busy, but also it means that people are having to deal with their families and (I assume) the added pressure that comes with family gatherings. Which leads to exchanges like this one:
"Can I help you find anything?"
"No. I want Parmesan but all of these have too much rind on them and I have to cut so much of it off that-"
"Okay."
I said "okay" in a pleasant enough voice, and I was wearing a smile at the time, but I ceased to listen at that point and turned and fled into the kitchen. The thing is, the Parmesan is not more rindy than any real Parm anywhere else. What we have is true blue Parm, organic and imported. It's a DOC cheese, and you pay for the quality. If people aren't interested, they can go to another grocery store and buy the fake stuff. But rind is part of the deal, and most people can put it to good use. So anyway, yeah. I have learned an important lesson from Sven: Do not respond. Do not defend. Do not attempt to answer an unanswerable question. And it's working. She had nowhere to go after she said no, so I just walked off.

Did I mention how fucking delicious this wine is? Honestly. I don't know where it's been all my life.

In other news, I got my review at the Local Restaurant, and Harried Manager had nothing but great things to say. I made a few goals for myself which mostly include learning more about the wine and beer lists and teaching what I know to the staff. He put me in charge of picking the wines by the glass for the restaurant, which is glorious. I went to a huge wine tasting up in Stow3 last week, found a bunch of new things I like, and am moving to get some of them into both the LR and the LG. The wine salesmen seem quite happy to have me on board, which is great. Had another tasting at the restaurant before my shift started on Tuesday (that's where tonight's Malbec came from), too. Difficult to feel like working after tasting fifteen wines. I managed. I get a paid day off on Sunday, but the b.h. has a long and arduous day in store. Since it's supposed to be in the upper 70's, I'll likely take the dogs and go somewhere on a long hike. Monday is the Hold Steady show in Burlington. Woot! Now all I have to do is survive the next two days...

"In nature, the momma bird and the daddy bird never leave the nest at the same time. One of them goes out to hunt while the other one stays in the nest with the baby bird."

This remark from Sven follows the crashing to the cement floor of a third bottle of wine. The hapless father looks up at us as if to say

"Who knew that if I let my toddler roam around by itself in a giant stack of glass that something might break?"

We both put our heads down and continue cutting cheese while a couple other people scramble to clean up the mess.

"I just don't understand why they both have to shop."

This sentence is nearly drowned out by the sudden shrieking meltdown of yet another small child, this time at the coffee bar. there is a distinct doppler effect as it's mother drags it back and forth through produce and the deli department. Co-workers scatter like cockroaches in the light, everyone making for the kitchen and stocking areas out back. Ahhh... the joys of retail.

This just in via text from the Local Liquor Store back in Athens:

"Life on the Westside: If your 750ml of vermouth and your olives cost more than your 1.75L of vodka, you may want to rethink your martini."

Man, I miss those guys. Fortunately I will be seeing them in two weeks. Two weeks!!! Oh my gods.

The b.h. and I went to see our Senator and the Danish ambassador the other night at our local Unitarian Univers@list church. This is exactly the sort of thing we had hoped to do more of, what with living in the state capitol and all.
Bernie Sanders is a man who was obviously made for politics. He's kind of loud and brash and funny, and he managed to cut in at the appropriate moments so the Danish Ambassador didn't have to do all of the talking and so that as many audience members as possible were allowed to ask questions.
This was basically a talk about how the Danish health care system and Danish society in general function. It was interesting. Very interesting, especially in light of our current situation. I think they have the right idea over there, but I am also not naive enough to think that their system could, would, or even should be adopted in this country. Of course, you'll never convince the left wing nutjobs of this, but nutjobs from either side prefer to live in an echo chamber, so I don't think anyone is bothering to try to convince them of anything. Anyway, it was interesting and informative, and my boss Barbara and her husband Tom met us there, and he was audibly sighing through many of the dumbest questions from the audience. I think he and the b.h. are really going to get along well.

"...Local Grocery is obviously trying to kill all of the Jews in town," said the Grocery Manager, hanging up the phone at his desk and looking completely exasperated.
Annie was doubled over at her desk, laughing.
"You did what now?" I asked, barging straight into the conversation because, well, how could I not?
"This woman just called, and because I couldn't find the ingredients list on the Vermontzah (this is a locally made matzah bread- in The Green Mountain State we are very into "local" products) she said the the Local Grocery is obviously trying to kill all the Jews. Mind you, the ingredients are listed, but I couldn't find them fast enough."
Oh, how I love crazy people when they're not talking to me.

The other night I had dinner at Barb and Tom's. Barb is my boss. She's just about my mom's age, but she and her husband Bob were into the sixties in a way that my parents never were. They are a hoot, to say the least. We ate in their garden, and Barb and I shared a gorgeous bottle of French rose'. We had to go in as soon as the sun went down, because it got cold right away.
Looking forward to a lot more of that. In the meantime, rather than wishing it would stay warm I'm trying to think about how much better it is for the maple farmers that it's getting cold again. The thing about sugar season is, as soon as the trees bud, it's over. So there's that.