Adventure 551: Penultimate Leg 2019 Journey/Boulder City, Nevada

Yes, all of you.

After a vigorous week on the Stoneybrook Farm (Gary and Loey Hooley's place), we find ourselves grateful to be holed up in the Canyon Trail RV Park in Boulder City, Nevada. Tomorrow, we'll make the last leg of this year's positioning trip for the truck and trailer (Fric and Frac) at the Ellsworth's winter home in Lake Havasu City. They've graciously allowed us to store the vehicles until January. But whew! What a sale week. The sale, a satellite fair trade event that's been held at the Filer Mennonite Church for the last twenty-four years. The proceeds help artisans from around the world earn a living wage and provide the community with access to marvelous and unique gifts. It netted @ $34,441 this year. Also, the cause matches the Mennonite philosophy of giving more than is received and provides church members a way to actively give in a way that makes the world a better place.  
The artisans are paid a living wage up front. The proceeds made from the sale are immediately re-invested in more goods. The sale, a three day event, requires much volunteer help. This is the third year Judy and I have helped, and we recruited Liz Ulmen to help us this year. It's an amazing process. On Sunday of sale week, the church is transformed into a market. Rooms are emptied, shelves are put in place, and goods are unpacked. Anna, manager of the mother store in Boise directs traffic and uses her incredible marketing skills to display the items for sale. Besides the sale items, each day the "Hooley Crew" bakes pies, bread, sticky buns, pumpkin rolls, sour dough loaves, and wheat bread made from wheat grown on the farm and ground daily. In addition, Ardith's crew bakes cookies. The bake sale item proceeds return to the church to pay for advertising. This year the bake goods netted @$3,140. The sale takes three days to set up, includes three days of actual selling, and then, Saturday night, the unsold goods are repacked, the church is re-assembled, and the crew enjoys a celebratory dinner at the end. It's a Wow example of "best human practice" in action. I'm valuable during set up and take down, carrying whatever. I also transport the fresh baked goods each morning. Otherwise, this year I helped winterize Loey's garden, but my most joyful time was spent helping demolish Sarah's new house. I tore down lath and plaster, sheet rock, and pried up stubborn carpet strips. Not to worry, there is still much work to do before Sarah can move in, but I helped as much as I could. I had great help from Tom Losser, Sarah's uncle by marriage. His truck and trailer proved very valuable in a land fill run to dispose of the debris. Meanwhile it was harvest time on the farm. The Hooley's: Gary, Andy, Lisa, Loey, Sarah and Virginia (Loey's sister) all kept up their normal frantic farm chores. It's stunning to watch. I've often thought that even if I had the knowledge to help with the farm work, I'd only be able to last part of one day. I stand in awe of the work these people do each and every day. As Gary says, "Even on Sundays cows eat and irrigation has to be managed. Needless to say, I'm bushed, but bushed with that glow of a good job done well. It made me realize even more that life is good, especially today
.

I was able to practice Tai Chi a few times this week: my venue.

Peafowls lord over Stoneybrook Farm.

The Hooley bakers made 59 pies, 24 pans of sticky buns, a half dozen pumpkin rolls, at least nine loaves of sour dough bread, and three dozen loaves of wheat bread. That doesn't count the cookies and fudge that Ardith's crew contributed.

Lottie, a very young and naughty collie, spent a few days tied to the pole of remembrance.

These buckets are filled with plaster and dry wall scraps.

Lois (Church member volunteer) and Loey Hooley waiting to greet sale customers.

The Hooley clan fans over a thousand acres, managing fifty fields. Part of the work this week was baling, loading, and stacking hay: Some for sale, some for feed. 

Believe it or not, gathering this hay is a one person job.

This is a delightful path I took as a short cut to work at Sarah's house.

Part of the Hooley enterprise is raising dairy cows. They keep a herd for two years, sell, and get a new herd. The work is ongoing.

Cows eat hay.

Our daughter Leticia has a dog named Tuco. This little girl, Piper, is of the same breed.

The Sunday night tradition is popcorn, sliced apples, cookies, and conversation. 

Here is Liz packing the unsold goods.

My Bunny in full sales girl mode.

The selling day was long. Here, Liz takes a small rest.

Lots of shelves, lots of goods.

Part of the bakery crew: Judy, Patti, Virginia

Teresa (On the left) manages the Christmas room. Anna, the "Boss" on the right. Notice the end of the week smiles (and fatigue).

Adventure 550: Whole Country Turn Around/Hooley Farm/Post A

Early morning traffic at Logan Airport

The drive back Saturday from Vermont proved uneventful, except for the wonderful lunch served by Johnny's sister, Marion, and the exquisite "drive by" to see Johnny's boyhood home. Sunday morning at 5:15 A.M. Johnny took us to Logan Airport. We were stunned by the amount of traffic, but we weathered the half hour wait in the security line, the rifling of dangerous Judy's bag (Maple syrup, jam, knitting needles and the like), the flight across country, the two hour layover in Portland which landed us in Spokane about 3 P.M. I immediately went and got Frac, which proved eventful because the sudden ice storm had busted the water line behind the toilet. It will have to be fixed, but timing doesn't allow for that now. We packed, loaded the trailer with clothes, a little food, and as many other things as we could remember, and picked Liz up at 6 A.M. for the drive to Twin Falls where we'll spend the week helping with the annual Ten Thousand Villages sale the Filer Mennonite church hosts every year. This is our third time helping. We enjoy it very much, mostly because we've come to love these dear friends. This year, we have another of our dear friends, Liz Ulmen, in tow. She'll get to experience a little "farm" life this week. Joy will be ringing. We're happy we made it here safely. The twelve hour drive proved fairly draining, but the day was bright and warm, so life is good, especially today.

 Hopping the Alaska prop plane at Sea-Tac for the last leg.

 We stopped in Boise to pick up the "Lizmobile" and got to see her grand daughters. This little cutie is Mariana.

 Her older sister, Celia, enjoys Miss Judy very much.

 Mariana seems to love the new jumpy chair grandma brought her.

 And Celia is thrilled to have a game of catch with grandma.

 It was the soft part of the evening when we were finished setting up.

 Gary and Loey were completing their last chore of the day, feeding the heifers.

Adventure 549: Downtown Grocery/Post W

A last leaf.

Last day and night in Vermont. Our buddy, Frank, had to return to Boston a day early, so we made an executive decision to return the bikes a day early. This meant we drove to Putney, an hour South, where we rode a local  twenty mile route along a pleasant road called the River Road. We bid Frank adieu, turned in our rentals, repacked Judy's bike, and made it back to Ludlow in time to rest, shower, and prepare for our exotic Vermont dinner at the Downtown Grocery, which is an upscale, high priced, extremely popular venue in downtown Ludlow. The couple who own the restaurant do an superior job. The husband, the chef, who we didn't meet, and the wife, who we did, provide a nice experience. The gal, who hails from Oxford, Mississippi (Y'all) was bit over the top, but genuine, hard working, and as smart as a whiplash. Our dinner could not have been better. It was a perfect end to an excellent week. While I do realize as Robert Frost says, "...that as way leads on to way we may not pass this way again...",  I sincerely hope I'm blessed to experience this state once again in some other fall season. We all agreed that the foliage this year is the best we've ever seen, so for that we are happy, and grateful we are that life is good, especially today.

I snapped a photo from roughly the same angle at roughly the same time every day. Notice the color change.

 Faint colors.

 Emerging colors.

 Vibrant colors.

 Ridiculously spectacular colors.

 The last we'll see this year.

 Photo boy, Ed, snapping the "Downtown Grocery".

Johnny's brother, Danny, joined us for dinner. Former Exxon geologist, he spends his summers in Vermont and his winters in Houston. A pure joy. as a human being, and a nice addition to our dinner conversation. He even regaled a story that turned his brother's face a couple of shades of red.

 The beginning of the dinner parade. Fresh baked sweet rolls with a nicely crisp butter crust.

 Frites sprinkled with chopped shallots.

The main course, something called the Decker Steak, which is the cap of the ribeye resting on a bed of squash and finished with an watercress chimi-churra.

 Our salad was a high stack of heirloom tomatoes layered with ricotta cheese and dressed with high quality balsamic vinegar and a splash of extra virgin olive oil.

In keeping with our host's Southern roots we enjoyed a dish called "Late Night Breakfast", which is a decadent mix of French toast, bacon infused ice cream, and a slice of candied Vermont bacon all smothered in Maple syrup. Oh, my!

Until the next visit, let the biker babes rejoice.

Adventure 548: Woodstock-Barnard Loop/Post V

Stay balanced, Iron Man!

Waiting for the Barbarians
by C.P. Cavity

What are we waiting for, assembled in the forum?
The barbarians are due here today.
Why isn't anything going on in the senate?
Why are the senators sitting there without legislating?
Because  the barbarians are  coming today.
What's the point of senators making laws now?
Once the barbarians are here, they'll do the legislating.
Why did our emperor get up so early, and why is he sitting enthroned at the city's main gate, in state, wearing the crown?
Because the barbarians are coming today and the emperor's waiting to receive their leader.
He's even got a scroll to give him, loaded with titles, with imposing names.
Why have our two consuls and praetors come out today wearing their embroidered, their scarlet togas?
Why have they put on bracelets with so many amethysts, rings sparkling with magnificent emeralds?
Why are they carrying elegant canes beautifully worked in silver and gold?
Because the barbarians are coming today and things like that dazzle the barbarians.
Why don't our distinguished orators turn up as usual to make their speeches, say what they have to say?
Because the barbarians are coming today and they're bored by rhetoric and public speaking.
Why this sudden bewilderment, this confusion? (How serious people's faces have become.)
Why are the streets and squares emptying so rapidly, everyone going home lost in thought?
Because night has fallen and the barbarians haven't come. And some of our men just in from the border say there are no barbarians any longer.
Now what's going to happen to us without barbarians?
Those people were a kind of solution.

If I keep my eyes off my news feed, I don't have to think about barbarians (My Bunny recommends it). And if I keep my eyes on the hillsides of Vermont, like I've done all week, their spectacular hues arrange themselves like soft music lifting my hopeful spirit. I don't think we've ever experienced fall colors in Vermont this vibrant. We've been fortunate all week. Tony fixed Johnny's car. Monday's rain abated, and the weather since then has been crisp and cool. Better yet, each day new colors unveil themselves. I read that the green in the leaves is merely a mask, that the color in each leaf is always there waiting to appear. i love that. Does that mean there is a brilliance in each of us just waiting to surface, just waiting for the right inspiration, the right conditions, the right moment. Are we all we need to be just under our veil? Is it as John Muir says, "In the eternal youth of Nature, you may renew your own." I think, yes. Vermont in the fall has that effect: it renews the spirit. I guess that's why we've returned so often. And I most certainly relish Annie Dillard who says, "The answer must be, I think, that beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will or sense them. The least we can do is try to be there." I'm trying to be there, to be present, to wonder, to admire, to commune, to hope, because as Naomi Klein says, "Hope has never trickled down, it has always sprung up." I'm gratefully sprung, gratefully enriched, and gratefully aware that life is good, especially today.

 Johnny Boy, a man of truth and wisdom, isn't bothered by any "stinking" barbarians.

 Deb stays strong if she carries just a little "snack".

 Notice the battery pack strapped to Judy's bike. No wonder she's grinning.

We met a woman here named Dana who spent her work life in Lexington, MA as a kindergarten teacher. Delightful, she invited us to indulge in a little rake therapy. Most of us took her instruction and those of us who raked some leaves felt better for it.

 The biker babes sharing one of Dana's fresh baked apple turnovers.

Lunch at the Barnard General Store (One of my favorite country stores) for Judy and me was a "Danforth" sandwich: turkey, cabot cheddar cheese, cranberries, and leaf lettuce. Quite yummy.

 The crew relaxing at our lunch stop.

The Barnard store, about nine miles from Woodstock, VT, sits nestled beside a lovely lake at a three way junction, and has since1832.

 Frank and Ed, enjoying a "wild card" at the Long Trail Brewery.

 Sadly, the "Wiley Cager" proved victorious  this morning.

 Vermont color is spectacular even from a moving automobile.

Dana's roadside attraction is called "On the Edge" farm. Among other things, she grows these lovely swan gourds.

Even her mailbox is quaint.