Monday, October 14, 2013

Back On Station

WWI U-Boat Surfacing (Source)
The long (very pleasant) weekend is over.

Departed little Rhody on a bright (shiny) Saturday morning, 'twas a warm and pleasant day. Somewhere around Worcester we lost the sun.

Somewhere north of Worcester we went into the clouds. Low ceiling, constant drizzle. I turned to my co-pilot (the Missus Herself) and remarked, "Looks like the weather has gone to crap!" (Yes, we were in a car. Not an aircraft. Had we been in an aircraft, you would have probably read of my recent demise. Maybe. While I'm not exactly the brightest bulb on the tree, neither am I the dimmest. So say I. Others may disagree.)

The co-pilot (no stranger to witty repartee) just looked at me and said, "No sh!t Sherlock." Or words to that effect. As the Missus Herself, being a lady and all, abhors profanity, why she tolerates Yours Truly is, I believe, part of a major scientific study at a major American university. Or should be.

Upon arrival in New Hampshire, the weather (while still gloomy) was, at least, dry. Though perhaps 15 degrees cooler (Fahrenheit-wise) than little Rhody. Note that I don't normally "do" Celsius. Not that I don't like the metric system (Vive la France and all that) but I grew up with Fahrenheit. Water boils at 212, freezes at 32. Besides which, when I was a lad, we called it "centigrade", not Celsius.

Any hoo...

We were to stay at Mom's house for a wee bit while we awaited the arrival of The Musician (my youngest brother, from Boston, well, Somerville, if you wish to be all technical about it.) Then we would proceed to my home town's annual Apple Festival. For to partake of the wondrous northern New England goodness. (Think maple syrup, apples and other local stuff made from, well, maple syrup and apples.)

Apple Festival table decked out with mums and various products derived from maple syrup and apples
After our arrival at the Apple Festival, one of the first things my Mother remarked upon was that this celebration of apples seemed remarkably devoid of actual apples. Seems she was in the mood to purchase apples. What better place than the Apple Festival? Apparently no, this was not the Apple Festival we were looking for.

But I did find a nice Air Force hat. Which I purchased and promptly began to wear.

(Pay no attention to the old guy.
Rather, check out the cool hat and the lovely foliage in the background.)
No, the hat is not made from apples. Nope, maple syrup was also not used in the manufacture of this fine piece of headgear.

Seems the festival is more of an opportunity for local craftsman, artists and what-have-you to get together and sell their wares. Again though, there were lots of comestibles, condiments and various and diverse other things to purchase which were made from and/or related to apples and maple syrup.

But that was the height of Saturday's adventures. The next day we would travel to an actual apple orchard! Where there were lots and lots of actual apples and stuff made from apples. Oddly enough, there were also lots of maple syrup related things as well. And a petting zoo.

Yes, a petting zoo.

Vermont in the fall. A riotous good time.

(No, seriously, I miss that stuff. On the other hand, there wasn't a clam bake in sight!)


  1. I see no old guy! I see only an experienced, seasoned person with the wisdom of age. And any of the young whippersnappers around here that disagree will be severely thrashed as soon as I get my dentures in!

    1. You tell 'em Juvat!

      What were we talking about?

  2. Nice hat. MUCH better than that one with the "N" on it, Gawdonlyknows what THAT means (but I'm quite certain there's a "666" embroidered elsewhere, like in the hatband, on said "N" hat). ;-)

    It's good to get away, innit? And better to be back home.

    1. Yes and yes.

      (I had to post the hat picture. Had to.)

    2. I have a hat with an "N" on it.
      Maybe I will post a picture and tell its story ...some day.

    3. I look forward to that with breathless anticipation.

      What a tease you are!


Just be polite... that's all I ask. (For Buck)