Weekend in Vermont - Part 2

On up the mountain on a rainy morning we drove turning on to a dirt road that seemed to go straight up and disappear into a forest of hemlock and white birch. A bald eagle escorted us along a stretch of the river! Up, up,up to an ancient farmhouse red paint dull from many winter storms. Original wrought iron latches and no doorbell. But then to my delight out popped Drim to greet us. (Drim is a nickname and the story of how it came to be is long so I will not go into it now. Just know that it is an endearing term given her by family.)

That warm welcome set the stage for a wonderful, the dreary wethered weekend. From a dinner of homemade pizza with mozzarella, tomato, basil, garlic and capers to breakfast of fresh fruit and yogurt, local bacon and great coffee we had a great time. The house, which from the road appeared small, was actually a rambling space with a writing studio for Drim's dear husband, an art studio for her and many other large and small rooms scattered throughout. Every nook and cranny was a feast for the eyes!

In the kitchen the pots and pans hung from iron hooks mounted on the old oak beams that crossed the space. Juxtiposed were paintings and sculptures of big colorful chickens. On the counter a magnolia tree waited for Nature's cue to bloom and bright red chairs flanked each side of a short narrow table where we spent the most time talking and laughing.