June 21, 2015
Here I sit, in the “Room for Rent” bedroom of my brother
and sister-in-law’s 180 year-old Vermont house. It’s a gorgeous, funky old
house. There is so much love and so much character in this house, it permeates
from every crack and crevice. It’s a treasure trove of their lives, and of the
people who owned it before them. When they moved in, they had agreed to keep
some of the furnishings and found some extra’s the previous owner left for
them. It’s chock full of wonderful things, and it smells like clean, dry wood;
as soon as I walked in through the back kitchen door I could smell the wonder
of it all. “My” room they call the Window Box Room, and it’s mine should I ever
need a Vermont get-away. It’s a lovely room – complete with wonderful window
box and antique painted wooden sleigh bed. Yellow daisy wallpaper lines the
walls, a beautiful antique dresser with china knobs is against one wall, along
with the sweet little antique desk (vanity) I’m writing at now. The windows
over the window seat are open wide, letting in the sweet, cool air. Now and
then a car passes on the road in front of the house; the town of Tunbridge
sleeps as I type. The wonderful white noise of a small fan stirs the air from
the other side of the room. For tonight, all is well in the world. I have no
cell phone service, no Internet connection, and it’s me doing what I like best
– writing in a place that stirs my imagination and makes me feel like writing
my thoughts.
This is day three of my grand vacation. Backing up to day
two, that funky room in the Comfort Inn & Suites in Queens. In the morning,
I walked the neighborhood taking pictures, taking in the sights and smells,
noises of New York City. It was h a hot, muggy, overcast day. Bobby and Betsy
actually got to the room before noon, so after a proper greeting, we headed to
the New York Deli around the corner. A cool store, crammed full with every need
a person could possibly have, but also fresh baked goods (delivered from a
local bakery from what I gather). A fresh fruit and veggie stand out front, a
deli inside that served deli meats or sandwiches. It advertised itself as a 24
hour Italian deli, but as far as we could tell no one there was of Italian
descent – Middle Eastern most likely, but not so much Italian. We hung out in
the room after that and had the debate of staying one more night in the city,
and seeing the sights in Manhattan today (Saturday). After a check on the
availability of our room, we opted out of staying. It seems the clerk felt it
would be okay if we stayed another night, but for $50 more than we had stayed
the previous nights. Hence our drive to Vermont today.
After that quiet afternoon we needed to get ourselves to
Forest Hills Stadium. Adventure time! We had to figure out connections via mass
transit for a few reasons – first, parking was said to be minimal a few blocks
from the stadium, secondly, if we gave up the parking spot we had at the hotel,
the odds were we would not get another close by. And third – the cost of the
cab the few miles to the stadium was $45 each way. MTA one out! Bobby’s very
smart phone told us we needed the Q11 for 14 stops, a few blocks walk, then to
pick up the Q23 for 7 stops. Lo and behold, we managed! I had seen a sign where
we could purchase metro cards, and I had seen signs for the bus stops. The
adventure started when we got off the second bus – which had been detoured
because of the concert. We ended up walking ¾ of the way around the stadium and
finally ended up where we needed to be. But before we got there we were a
little unsure of where we were going. We passed through very upscale houses,
which got more and more posh as we walked. It was incredible – a slice of life
I don’t know much about for sure. These houses backed up to the stadium, and
some bordered the very private country club. Forest Hills used to be where
tennis matches were held, and it has recently been re-purposed for special
concert venues. As we waited for the gates to open we decided we had earned a
really cold beer, and stopped in Dirty Pierre’s at the corner of Burns Street.
A fun and quirky place, we were able to stand at a table outdoors and people
watch. NYC is fabulous for people watching! More walking led us to the stadium,
and up into the stands for bleacher seats. It was a really good concert; Van
Morrison’s only North American/US stop this year; next he’s off to Europe
somewhere – Norway, I think.
Let me stop in my recounting for a moment. Right now a
gentle rain has begun to fall. I can feel the change in the air, both in
temperature and in smell – the air smells the way summer grass smells up north
when it rains and gets damp and green; mossy smelling. It’s a beautiful,
earthy, rich smell. The sound of it is almost hypnotic with its steady, quiet
rhythm. It’s fully dark outside the screened windows – as it should be at 12:30
at night, and part of me wants to look out and see it fall; the other part is
just comforted by the comfort of being in a warm, dry house.
Now, back to Forest Hills and the concert. It was nice –
really special, and my brother was able to check off an item on his bucket
list. I am so happy to have been part of that. He told me later, back at the
hotel, that it seems wrong that bucket list items should be over so quickly. I
told him that really, while he was taking part in the event it was just normal
time; it is just because it was so special it seemed so quick. The stadium was
pretty packed, the sound was fantastic, and the couple next to us were great –
he kept handing over his binoculars for us to see the stage better; what a kind
thing for him to do! It was a long, slow walk out of the stadium. There was
only one exit for all those thousands of people, which was not a great deal of
fun, but it all worked out. I am thinking there is just one exit because of the
people in those beautiful houses – they don’t want all those people spilling
out into their quiet, peaceful streets.
Personally, I have always had a great respect for people
in uniform. I would not be able to do the job they do. I think that maybe it
would be really helpful, however, for the police officers manning and blocking
barricades and detours surrounding a place like Forest Hills to be told a bit
more – such as which direction the entrance is, where one might go for more
information, how to get to the bus stops, etc. We were told by more than one
officer – sorry, I can only tell you about this barricade, or the Long Island
Express. It was a really cool event, not a bad venue, but it was also unorganized
chaos for the most part. More help might be nice for future events!
I have dubbed myself the Queen of MTA for getting us back
to the hotel after the concert. Bobby said I am the Queen of Queens MTA J. We had to reverse our
steps, but because our original bus had been detoured, we really did not know
where to get back on the bus! We walked a bit after consulting the very smart
phone, and it was directing us to the E-train, then the Q11 bus. As we started
walking in what we hoped was the right direction I noticed a bus that said Q23.
We decided to get on and see where it went – after I asked the driver its final
destination. It turns out it was the same place we had actually caught the bus
earlier in the evening. We walked the few blocks to the place we got off the
first, original bus, and voila; there it was – the right stop, and eventually
the right bus came (last one for the night – wow, was THAT ever timing!), and
we got back, safe and sound. Adventures in MTA done.
Today we left Queens and NYC fairly early; to a whole lot
of traffic. I would not care to drive there; I would if I had to, but I am not
a big, bad, brave, adventurous driver – I am more defensive than offensive! We
made it out, and in Connecticut decided to take the scenic route north. We
ventured through quaint little towns, past rolling hills, forests, rivers, etc.
It is beautiful country, and it made me really happy riding today. We stopped
in Connecticut and Massachusetts and gathered a few rocks for a project I am
working on. We went for dinner on Killington at a place called Peppino’s
Italian Ristorante. Great food, fun atmosphere, wonderful waitress, and all
around really happy time. Which leads me to here and now, sitting in this
lovely, peaceful room feeling sleepier and sleepier. Tomorrow we have more
adventures planned in beautiful Vermont. I am experiencing a great contentment
and peace of mind right now. I feel so happy to be here and I am so relaxed.
Right now, I have not a care in the world except for ending this post, taking
out my contacts, brushing my teeth and crawling into the lovely bed behind me.
It is calling my name – Kim, come sleep now. Goodnight from Tunbridge, Vermont.
