October 2021 - Corn Mazes, Leaf Peepers, and Fall Scenery

Corn Maze

Ready to start, with my neighbors Joann & Kathy

Have you ever been through one of those corn mazes that are so popular this time of year?  I've never been particularly compelled to experience one - the word "maze" makes me think of confused lab rats and those puzzles you see in the Sunday paper where you keep reaching dead ends that force you to erase your progress and go back to the beginning.  

So when my neighbors Joann and Kathy suggested a trip to the Great Vermont Corn Maze (the "Largest Maze in New England!"), I was skeptical.  We had the option of signing up for either the 40-minute "Scenic Maze" or the 3 hour "Big Maze".   The idea of 3 hours (assuming that we didn't get lost) of trying to find my way out of rows of corn stalks seemed to me like something straight out of one of Dante's circles of hell.   Even our parish priest once said that if he died and went to heaven and found himself in a corn maze, he'd know that he was really in hell.  

Those thoughts in mind, I reluctantly agreed to sign up for the shorter Scenic Maze, wondering how acres of corn stalks could be "scenic". 

"Scenic"?

Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised that it wasn't as bad as I had imagined.  Instead of dead-ends and u-turns, there were directions to lead us through the maze in an ordered manner - posted hints such as "When you pass this spot, keep making right turns until you reach the next hint".  Interspersed were a few towers that allowed us to take in the scenery above the field of corn.   It took us a little over the allotted 40 minutes, but at least we didn't have to spend the night in a field of corn!

Leaf Peepers

It's leaf peeper season in Vermont, the time of year when folks from around the country (and the world, in non-Covid years) converge on the narrow country roads to view our fabulous fall foliage. This coming three-day weekend is generally the busiest weekend of the year in Vermont.   

Many of those leaf peepers arrive by way of bus groups - some are blended groups from parts unknown that meet up in Boston before heading north; others are regional groups that endure the bus trip from as far away as the Carolina's or Louisianna or Minnesota.  The tours usually last a week or ten days, and cover points of interest from Mystic to Sturbridge to the White Mountains to Portland, and everything in between.   Some of them inevitably end up at my (oftentimes mentioned) place of employment Billings Farm and Museum .   

I'm sure that all of the stops listed in the tour companies' brochures sound interesting and picturesque - Mt. Washington via the Cog Railway!  dinner aboard a scenic train ride along Lake Winnepsaukee! the Von Trapp lodge!  Ben & Jerry's!  Simon Pearce Glass Blowing!   a Cider Mill! Free time for shopping!  ---- and in fact, all of these stops ARE interesting.   

The problems arise when too many of these interesting stops are packed into too strict a schedule, not taking into consideration the delays that can come when just one passenger lags behind at breakfast, or when those charming country roads are congested with other buses trying to experience the same charming country roads.

While a good leisurely visit to Billings can take two to three hours, most bus tours allow just an hour and a half - part of which gets eaten up simply by the logistics of unloading the bus and providing the visitors with a brief introduction.  Throw any unforeseen glitches into the packed schedule and the visits may be shrink down to 30 or 40 minutes --- just enough time for the tourists to use the restroom, buy a postcard or some maple sugar candy, and wait in the lobby until it's time to get back on the bus for the next destination (ask anyone into the third or so day of the tour where they're going next, and the response is usually "I really don't know - wherever the bus takes me!")

Still, I find the bus groups to be a generally amiable and happy bunch, usually of a certain age, happy just to take pictures of the cows, take a wagon ride, sample some cider, or simply stand around and share a story about how they grew up on a farm.   

For those of us on the staff, the challenge is to direct the groups through the site smoothly and safely -- a role that's more like that of a traffic cop on days like today was (I'm writing this on Monday 10/4), when we had TEN bus groups.  The 9:30 bus arrived a half hour late at 10 AM; the two 10 o'clock buses were more or less on time, the 11 o'clock buses arrived at 10:15, and two previously unannounced and unscheduled tour buses arrived somewhere in that mix (the much used "herding cats" analogy comes to mind - during rush hour at Grand Central Station).

It's remarkable what cider donuts,"free" ice-cream, and a little friendly small talk can do, though.   Despite the chaos, there were smiles and thank-you's all around as they ended their short visits an hour or so later.   I can only hope that they all found their way back to the correct bus! 

Three of the ten buses that visited Billings Farm on Monday.  The rest of the week calls for "only" about a half dozen buses per day; the traffic will drop way down after next week.   In the meantime, we'll enjoy the hustle and bustle while we can.

Wagon rides - a crowd pleaser for bus groups.

Scenery

With all of those tourists, it's unfortunate that the colors this year seem muted - or maybe just delayed - partially due to a wet July, a hot August, and a late frost.   The colors may not be as vibrant as last year, but I couldn't help posting a few pictures anyway.

September 2021 - Summer's End

Sunflowers

Busy bees, doing what they do

You've still got a few weeks if you want to see the world's largest "Sunflower House" - at Billings Farm and Museum in Woodstock, Vermont (as you know, my part time employer).   

With the pandemic last year, some of the facility's indoor spaces were closed to the public, but one thing that wasn't impacted was the so-called "Sunflower House" (aka maze).   It's back bigger and better this year, with over 100 varieties of flowers that started to blossom in late July and are expected to bloom through late September.  

It was featured on NECN a few weeks ago: see the clip HERE.

It wasn't until I looked at this picture that I noticed the bee that happened to be flying in for its meal at the moment I snapped the shot. 
(Look closely to the upper right of the flower)

 

Tropical Storms

Picture from the book "Wrath of Irene" by local author M. Dickey Drysdale

Hurricane-turned-tropical-storm "Henri" turned out to be pretty much a non-event up here in central Vermont.  While parts of Connecticut saw 3-4" of rain and New York City twice that, our garden rain gauge here registered just one quarter of an inch. 

The days leading up to the storm, however, had many Vermonters anxious about the potential of history repeating itself, as we neared the tenth anniversary of Tropical Storm Irene.  Irene had mostly spared the coast, but swiftly continued inland on August 28, 2011, decimating miles of roads, undermining bridges and houses, upending cemeteries, and isolating communities along the way.   Our local TV station took a look back a few days ago: Hurricane Irene.

Visitors from the South

John and I were happy to host Jerry & Laura Kimble for an overnight visit a couple of weekends ago.  They were on their way to Burlington to pick up their son Spencer, a UVM student, who was taking a week off before returning to start the new semester.   

 We started with dinner and local brews at Bent Hill Brewery, poetically described on their website as "nestled in the hills of Braintree, Vermont" (translation: "in the middle of nowhere on a dirt road - but with great views").  The place sure does draw a crowd, and understandably so because the food and drinks did not disappoint!  

 

On the way home, we passed by Gil Anderson's old vacation home, right there on Bent Hill Road, and the evening's conversation turned to reminiscences of MSD back in the 20th century: the days when the department was a sea of gray desks, when smoking was allowed everywhere, when telephones were shared by four people.   Our birthday celebrations and department picnics were epic, and we had enough softball players to field not one but two teams - not to mention enough 20-somethings for an annual over/under 30 competition.  And of COURSE, the topic drifted to some of the classic characters we worked with: Gil, Charlie Straight, DJ Blake, and too many others to mention here.

This past August 8, just like every other year, I thought about where I was on that same date in 1974: at an interview luncheon with a couple of 40-something "geezers" (to my 22 year-old brain) - Gil and Hal Velie.  One of the two brought up the question: "what do you think President Nixon will talk about in his address to the nation tonight?"    It turned out to be the day that Nixon announced that he'd resign as of the next day. 

That day may have been a downturn in Nixon's life, but quite the opposite for me, the long-reaching significance of which I could not have grasped at the time. I could never have imagined how that pivotal day would direct the course of my life.  Over the next few weeks, I'd meet many folks (including my husband) who would become life-long friends - friends with whom I'd be sharing memories with 40+ years later, or with whom I'd be able to communicate over distances by a not-yet-invented medium called the Internet. 

How lucky are we to have the privilege of such friendships!

 

August 2021 - More Summertime

....And more wildlife encounters:

John and I have lived in this house full-time for 22 years now, and another ten years before that as weekenders.  I've hiked the same fields and woods here for all of those years, but experienced a first just a couple of weeks ago.  

Zoey and I were on our regular morning off-leash hike through the meadows at the top of our street.  She happened to be a few feet in front of me as we approached the boundary between two large open fields - a boundary defined by a stone wall that has since been overgrown by shrubs and saplings.  My view of the field into which we were crossing was momentarily obscured by those shrubs, but I knew something was up when I saw Zoey suddenly take off running towards the left and out of view as she cleared the opening.  

We've encountered hikers, mountain bikers, hunters, turkeys, deer, pheasants, and even horseback riders in those fields over time (and of course skunks, as I reported last month), so in the split second before I was able to round the corner, I figured that she was off to greet and/or chase after one of those familiar targets - but then something else came into view.

What I saw emerging out of the woods about 75-100 yards away was a black bear, and Zoey was running right towards him.  Having only seen a bear in this area once before, my initial reaction was along the lines of "hey, how about that - a real bear!"; it was kind of like watching a movie.  I'd say that Zoey got within about 50 feet of him, but she fortunately stopped and came running back to me when I yelled to her (good girl, Zoey!).  

As for the bear: he stopped about the same time that Zoey did, then quickly turned around and went back into the woods from where he had come.  Maybe he has a thing against Labradoodles, or maybe he's like most black bears who generally just don't have much interest in dogs or humans, other than our bird feeders and trash cans (or backyard swing sets, like this 2017 video from East Granby).  As mentioned, this was only the second time that I've seen one around here, and in truth, my relatives in Connecticut have had more sightings in their neighborhoods than I have.

They say that making noise when you're out hiking in the woods is a good practice, so as not to suddenly come upon and startle a bear.  From now on, I think I'll put a bell on Zoey, and I'll make sure to sing loud and clear on my morning walks.  I'm just glad that we don't have alligators around here!

The red arrow shows more or less where the bear emerged from the woods. 
Sorry, I didn't have time to take a picture of him - he fortunately didn't hang around to pose for me.

Here's the Vermont Fish and Wildlife website, with recommendations about how to handle black bear encounters, for those of you that live in bear country: Black Bears.

July 2021 - Summertime

Lady Slippers, Lightning, and Skunks

Mid-June is the season for Lady Slipper blooms here in Vermont.  The flowers, part of the orchid family, are illegal to pick in some states - mainly because the plants take so long to establish themselves to reach maturity.  Lady Slipper patches can be rare to find in your average neighborhood, but there are some publicly accessible nature areas around the state, like the Esthqua Bog in Hartland that I visited with some friends a couple of weeks ago.  A boardwalk at the site allows the public to view the rare flowers without disturbing them.  

The visit inspired me to try planting my own Lady Slipper patch in our yard, but was discouraged when I found that the price of a single bulb could range anywhere from $45 to $85 and more!

For more about Lady Slippers:

www.fs.fed.us/wildflowers/plant-of-the-week/cypripedium_acaule.shtml

* * * * *

We've always heard that it's not a good idea to stand under or near a tree during a thunderstorm, and I was reminded of that recently.

In our area, it seems that most thunderstorms are something we hear off in the distance, and they are generally short-lived.  A couple of weeks ago, however, we were standing in the kitchen during a storm and saw a flash of lightning followed pretty darn immediately by a loud clap of thunder. The next morning, I was taking my usual hike along the wooded path about a half mile up the street from us and came across this sight.

It may not be easy to see in the picture, but splinters of the unfortunate tree were found 10 to 20 feet away from its base, like an explosion of little wooden missiles. 

Fortunately for the drought conditions we were experiencing at the time, the tree did not catch fire. 

* * * * *

Zoey and her friend Teddy

Our black Labradoodle Zoey has energy to spare, as does my friend Jane's Goldendoodle "Teddy".  They're evenly matched in exuberance and age (almost 3), so we've been getting them together for weekly play dates and an off-leash romp in the fields and hiking trails around here.  

The two dogs cover three or four times the distance that Jane and I do, as they chase each other in circles through meadows, and deftly leap over logs and rocks in the woods.  For all of Zoey's bad habits (which we're working on), she never strays far and has proven to be pretty responsive when I call her.   A VERY GOOD THING!

A few weeks ago, the end of our hike brought us through a meadow that had not yet been hayed.  While Jane and I walked along a narrow mowed path, Zoey and Teddy did their usual loop-de-loops through the tall grass.....which is when we spotted the plumed black and white tail of another animal about 50 feet away, right where the dogs were headed.   

Jane and I did what you're not supposed to do to call back your dogs, which is to scream their names angrily. The skunk apparently wanted no part of the action and disappeared into its den in the ground, but not before putting up the only defense he knows...a malodorous calling card aimed at the dogs and the surrounding grass.  

Zoey got the message and came running back to me, with just her head and neck bearing that unmistakable smell.   Teddy, on the other hand, decided that it was more fun to roll around in the tall grass where the skunk had just sprayed, seemingly determined to cover every inch of his curly coat with the perfume, before Jane could run to him and pull him away on leash.

Understandably unwilling to drive home with a smelly dog in the car, Jane gave Teddy a hose-down in our back yard using an anti-skunk home remedy (hydrogen peroxide/baking soda/dish detergent).   Zoey's bath was more localized to her head and neck, but it took a week or two before the odor worked its way out of her collar completely.

I should note: perhaps Teddy is trying to impress Zoey with his fearlessness: on another walk a couple of months ago, the two of them startled a porcupine hiding in a stone wall.  Zoey held back while Teddy  persisted as the frightened animal climbed a tree and responded with ITS only method of defense.  Teddy was lucky that time - his only badge of courage from the display of youthful indiscretion was a single porcupine quill to the nose.

   

The field where it happened

June 2021 - Replacement Parts and Math Games

Replacement Parts

About the most noteworthy thing around our house this month – something that some of you might be able to relate to  - was John’s hip replacement surgery on May 10.  Conveniently for us, the procedure was performed right here at Randolph’s Gifford Hospital.  He was home the next day, spent about a week on crutches before progressing to a cane, and was mowing the lawn with his riding mower within ten days of the surgery.   All is going well as of this writing.

This wasn’t John’s first hip rodeo; he had his other hip done nine years ago and notes the changes in the process – more refined anesthesia (alert soon after waking); no stitches to be removed;  visiting nurse visits replaced by a simple one-week follow up out-patient P/T appointment; and no need to wear compression socks for a month following the surgery.   

When that first hip started to give him trouble back ten years ago, he procrastinated  the decision for the surgery for as long as he could.  Older and wiser this time, he scheduled it almost as soon as he started to experience discomfort.   

If you’ve been faced with the same decision, John would be the first to tell you to just GET IT DONE!  

 

Math Games

Here’s a parlor game that we’ve all encountered in one form or another: 

1. Pick any number x from 1 to 10.

2. Multiply x by 2.

3. Add 10.

4. Divide by 2.

5. Subtract x.

Let me guess your answer….. 5! *

Every month or so, I’ve been getting flyers in the mail advertising “The Great Courses” – streamed or DVR’d lectures on a variety of topics that generally go for a few hundred dollars each.   When a special  $25 offer came to my attention, I took a closer look at the course offerings – what did I have to lose for that price?    

In recent years, I’ve taken a number of free online history classes from other sources, but this time, I decided to go back to what was my “first love” in academics which became my college major.   So, I signed up for “The Joy of Mathematics”, a series of 24 half hour lectures with titles such as “The Joy of Primes”, “The Joy of Fibonacci Numbers”, and “The Joy of Infinity”.  The lectures are just that – no exams.  They’re taught by a Professor Arthur Benjamin (Harvey Mudd College in California) whose enthusiasm for the subject is infectious.

 

I’m about a quarter of the way through the course and have learned things like how to mentally multiply two-digit numbers or how to square any two-digit number that ends in “5” (still working on both of those).

It’ll be interesting to see how I do with Lecture # 14 (“The Joy of the Imaginary Number i”) or Lecture #18 (“The Joy of Differential Calculus”).   I’ve always maintained that  that my love of math started to derail when I was first introduced to imaginary numbers.  (I don’t care what they say - there IS no square root of minus 1 – “i” is not a number!).  And, truth be told, higher level college math – especially a Differential Equations class - almost led me to change my major.  

Still, the course is a fun mind exercise and refresher if you like to play games with numbers, or have forgotten the Quadratic Formula from your high school Algebra class.

 ➕➖➗➖➕

* P.S.  As to that parlor game, as Professor Benjamin of Harvey Mudd College would say, it’s simple Algebra:

(2x + 10)/2 – x 

= (x + 5) – x 

= 5

May 2021 - Post-Vaccine World Tour

I had my second shot of the Moderna vaccine on April 9, which meant that I could finally travel out of state overnight with no required Covid test or quarantine by the 23rd.  So for my first trip I just had to go to Connecticut to see family that I've missed for over a year.  

What used to be just a routine trip may as well have been an around-the world journey in terms of my level of anticipation.

Born and raised in Connecticut, it was strange for me to think that I hadn't been there since March 2020.  Even stranger was the fact that I hadn’t been anywhere overnight in all of that time.  I had to remind myself of the basics that I'd need to pack, because the last time I did any packing was for a ski trip to Montana just before the country started to shut down 14 months ago.  That trip never happened for us because I broke my wrist just hours before we were to leave (as it turned out, I never completely un-packed from that aborted trip, which made packing this time easy because I found my travel-ready shampoo, toothpaste, and what-nots still in their TSA-approved Ziploc baggies stashed in the back of the closet).

All packed, and with a tank full of gas, I left home on Sunday morning the 25th.

First, a few random observations:

• As always, the drive south this time of year is a fast-forward trip through the season.  As I got on I-89 in Randolph, I could see the snow on Killington in the distance; the foliage along the highway was just beginning to show some “fuzz”.   But just two hours later, I was looking around at blossoming trees and neon green lawns in Connecticut. 

• Crossing through Massachusetts, I noticed that the state has re-numbered its highway exits to match the highway mile markers, a practice common in the rest of the country, but not yet evident in Vermont or Connecticut.

• Approaching Springfield, I realized something else that I hadn’t done (nor missed) in over a year: driving on a three-lane highway.  I was reminded of that fact as I crossed the line into Holyoke and immediately observed several cars doing the familiar high-speed ping-pong across multiple lanes of traffic.  (A corollary question – when did Massachusetts and Connecticut stop putting directional signals in cars?)

Arriving in Newington, I got to meet my newest grandniece Adalina, just one month old, before proceeding to a small gathering with other nieces and nephews – all vaccinated – for a few hours.  We had met a couple of times during the pandemic – a hike at Skinner State Park last September, a quick gift swap in a Brattleboro parking lot before Christmas – but those were masked and not long enough for extended conversation.  I have to say that at first it did feel kind of strange to all be together, like we were doing something marginally illegal.  It didn’t take long, however, until the intervening months were almost forgotten.

Then: September 2020.....vs.......

Now: April 2021

Next, it was on to Waterford on the Connecticut coast for a relaxed visit and overnight stay with my long-time friend Nancy – and the realization that I hadn’t seen the ocean in over a year and a half!   To make up for it, we drove to Rocky Neck State Park the next morning for a long walk.   The park isn’t open to the beach crowd quiet yet, so the beach and the wooded trails were peaceful.  

I hadn’t been to Rocky Neck since the early1970’s, but it holds a special place in my memories.   Living in Hartford when I was a child, we spent virtually every Sunday in the summertime there.   Saturdays were for working around the house and yard, but Sunday mornings we’d get up for the early Mass, then my parents would pack up the car with what seemed to be enough food for a week, and we’d head down the old Route 9 to Rocky Neck for the day.  

Rocky Neck, 1954-ish: I'm the blur, second from the right, behind my father's hand

With friends and extended family meeting us there, we’d set up “base camp” of several tables together in the grassy picnic area.   There was always plenty of grilled kielbasa and potato salad, but we’d go up to the pavilion to buy cotton candy, ice cream, and French fries.   If we were lucky, we’d hear the train coming and run to watch it from the bridge behind the pavilion. (I remember dropping French fries onto the train).   I recall that the mothers mostly stayed in the picnic area throughout the day (someone had to guard all of the food!), while the fathers would head to the beach with the kids; we'd spend what seemed like hours floating around in those big old black inner tubes.  The end of the day meant one more snack in the parking lot – it seems like our group was always among the last ones there – and a sleepy ride home with a sunburn and sand in my clothes and sneakers.

What was that that I said in my second paragraph?  The one-night trip “may as well have been an around-the world journey in terms of my level of anticipation”.   I’d say it lived up to the expectation – meeting the newest member of my family, hugging my nieces and nephews, spending time with a childhood friend, and a trip down memory lane to cap it all off.   Who needs to travel around the world?

 

Inland brook at Rocky Neck State Park