Further On Up The Road

Long ago, I had settled into The Valley with hopes of putting some roots down, and I mostly succeeded. I found a tribe of musicians and artists I admired, and wanted to be a part of the scene that was still vibrant in town. Rather than continue renting, I was looking at houses to buy, but nothing fit the price range. A small cottage in need of repair showed up, and I reluctantly bought it, with the realization that I had a lot of work cut out for me.

Over the next 15 years, I had one roof replaced, then I replaced two other sections on my own.

(I knew nothing about home repairs!)

Winter storms were often brutal, as I would have to climb up on the roof and rake snow from the upper levels of the house, then shovel them away from the driveway. I was starting to tire of the seasonal grind, and wondered how much longer I could last with the upkeep. 

The last three winters, I had the place on the market with no takers and I was getting despondent over the situation. Finally, a buyer came forward and was enamored with the place. However, COVID 19 shut down everything, and I could not close the sale. No longer living there any more, I only stopped by to make sure the pipes didn't freeze again. 

In the summer the process started up again, and by July, I suddenly became aware that I was actually going to be moving on. 17 years. Some good, Some terrible. Over the last several years, I lost my mom, the family home, my marriage and my dad. The last thing to go before completely starting over, was just a piece of property I no longer wanted part of.

It took a few years of living alone to rediscover my true spirit, and what it was I wanted in life out of myself. Everything I remember about the place was gone, and it no longer seemed like home. One last time, I drove away and did not look back.

Where I live now is Further on up the Road.

Seeing The Same Things Differently

One of my favorite spots in Western Massachusetts is at the north end of the Quabbin Reservoir. 

I explored all of the Quabbin area when I first moved out here, and found that the spot I enjoyed the most was a fairly remote spot at the north end that afforded an amazing water frontage view at the end of a 1/4 mile paved path. Not a soul to be found most every time I have been here. It's about as natural as it gets, and I can enjoy the peace, quiet and solitude nearly every time I go.

Back To Bennington

One of my favorite places to be. Something about the hills, the colors and the air. The fact that we share our Northern border and a mere 15 minutes gets me to the Green Mountain State, where my mother's family once lived (East Barre/Groton), where I played countless shows, and where I have been tracing Wallace Stegner's later Summers living in Greensboro.

I continue to feel a connection to Vermont, and it is easy to get to Brattleboro, White River Junction or even Bennington. I played a show decades ago at Bennington College, and have returned only a handful of times since then. It's always new to me. So this time I decided to do something new there. My life is so very different now, so it makes sense to think that way. Hopped into the car and took the kids to see an Alpaca Farm in Shaftsbury, VT.

I don't know why I chose Alpacas. Maybe because I know kids tend to like them? Maybe I secretly like them? I'm not sure, but it was a cute and enjoyable experience. Being around animals is a disarming experience, and Alpacas are pretty laid back for the most part.

Sandy Gordon runs a sprawling farm about 10 minutes Northwest of Bennington, near the actual battlefield, where the Green Mountain Boys kicked some serious tail. Over thirty Alpacas roam the property, and she clearly loves them. She spent a lot of time showing them to us, and named them after various musicians, in particular Texas Blues guitar players.

Afterwards, we drove to nearby Arlington. Got chocolate and ice cream, and then to a food stand a little up the road for some burgers and dogs. It was one of those classic summer experiences in New England. All over the course of only 6 hours.

Clouds in my IPA

Summertime has arrived. Temperatures have gone up, but we haven't had much rain. A month or so ago, a helicopter flew over the roof, and though it was startling, I thought no more of it. Turns out a small forest fire was a mile or so away, and had consumed several acres! The helicopter was dousing the fire with water carried in what is called a "Bambi Bucket". The helicopter would make several more trips after I left, my girlfriend would later tell me.

We haven't had much rain since then. Sitting on the back deck with a beer, I watch the clouds develop and drift from the West, and wonder if the storm will just glance us as it travels Northeast, or just smack right into us. This time it was the former. It was pretty to watch and listen to. I could see the rain descending in the distance, and a few drops landed on me. but that was it.

No worries. We've had two straight days of solid downpours, this week, and more is on the way!

The Long Sunsets

The long lingering days in June are sometimes truly wonderful. Mosquitos are not plentiful this year, because of dry weather and cold nights. I was able to room around outside and look at the sunset that spread out along the sky above. With only the sound of the birds, and the faint hum of the highway in the distance. I gazed at the surrounding trees and the beautiful colors. 

How did I get here?

Life's twists and turns took me on quite an adventure, and now I'm in a place very different, but vaguely reminiscent of my childhood memories living in suburban CT. I was two blocks away from a park that offered views like this, and I would walk around every day after supper in the summertime, and watch the sunsets. Memories that were made up of my Mom doing her gardening outside, and my father watching golf on TV while enjoying a cocktail in his favorite chair. My brothers were off doing their own thing, and I wasn't up to playing team sports in the summer, so I was free to roam around. Until the sky grew dark and it was time to come in.

So here I am, around the same age as my parents back then, roaming around the backyard, doing some gardening, maybe enjoying a beer... and they probably have golf on TV, as opposed to other sports being shut down at the moment. I was a happy person back then, but I was looking forward to being an adult and making my own life for myself, and being happy doing it. 

                          

Despite things being so upside down in the world, I can honestly say I may have found the happy life I remember and was looking for. 

At least I'm looking in the right direction.

Angles of Repose

A change of sorts has been taking place during this now 14 week stretch of barely working and mostly staying at home.

Even though I only managed one paying gig in April and nothing in May, June has produced two paying events, and hopefully July shall provide a few more on top of that. My full time band had all of its shows scrapped until sometime at Summer's end, because of one of the members needing an operation. Actually, a good time to rest and recover for him, and hopefully, by the Fall, we will be ready to go back at it again.

14 weekly shows with my partner has been a wonderful creative escape, and we learned many new songs, we may have never gotten around to otherwise. It forced us to work on our act, so to speak.

If you want to find out if two people are really compatible together, put stay at home orders on them, and see how it goes.

I've started looking at life differently over this time. Still missing my father, but relieved he is no longer suffering. It was very hard to watch both of my parents slowly deteriorate over the past 10 years. 

I enjoy my current state of mind, and look forward to seeing where it goes. I anticipate more positive changes this summer, and am striving for a few more goals as well.

Good things might come out of all this sorrow.

The Train to Somewhere

Returned to White River Junction for a quick revisit. Stopped by Windsor to cross the famous covered bridge into New Hampshire, and then right back through it again to get back to Vermont, and on the highway to the next town. There's not much to do but get take out food. So we found a BBQ place, loaded up on some pulled pork, and pulled into the Amtrak Station Parking lot to consume our bounty. Trains are running (only 2 Amtraks a day) although freights often run at various hours. 

In the Township of Hartford, VT: White River Junction is what Willimantic, CT is to Wyndham.

   

So here's this 150+ year old train sitting here. I go check it out.

There's barely a soul in this town as far as traffic (there never was) and the Amtrak Station is closed for the day. But the Restaurants are still working hard to deliver. I knew of a BBQ place just down the street from the Hotel Coolidge, and called them from the parking lot to order. I had a nice view of the hotel I stayed at nearly 4 years ago.

When I was trying to figure out where my life was going.

This thing was just sitting for the public to look at, stairs and no signs saying do not enter, so I took a quick look and some pictures. We finished our BBQ and drove back home.