Window on Vermont
We drove up to Vermont the other weekend on the heels of a messy storm. The roads in Somerville were thick with ice, just terrible, but they seemed to have a handle on things on the New Hampshire and Vermont highways.
Things were snowy and idyllic up there.
We arrived just in time for the Parade of Horses in the town of Woodstock. Most of the riders were ladies in sweeping velvet gowns, but there were a few guys like these decked out in their finest Carhartts.
Breakfast was at Blanche & Bill's. The menu was brief, but the walls were covered with signs in felt-tipped marker listing innumerable iterations of the various pancake-egg-meat combos available. Blanche and the gang sat one table over from us when it was time for their lunch. They prayed to Jesus, and then gossiped about the "evil" man who lived near one of them and how he yelled at his wife and kids. In the restroom, another felt-tipped sign asked ladies to please refrain from using the toilet to dispose of "the obvious."
The Ottauquechee River, starting to freeze.
The Coffee and Tea House is a good place to warm up.
You can get chilled out (in the spiritual sense) in the Birch Forest Lounge there, cozy with your maple latte.
The covered bridge in Woodstock looks olde timey, but was actually built as a reproduction in 1969. These ladies were searching for the next house on the Holiday Home Tour.
Sunset at the farmers' market, time to go home.