Today is day 2 of the *amazing* Vermont vacation that I’m taking with Awesome Boyfriend and let me tell you. If you’ve ever had a craving for long stretches of silence, good beer, organic EVERYTHING and absolutely no lifeforms resemblant of insects… Vermont in mid-January is the place for you.
Jimi knocked my skeptical little socks off by booking what has to be the neatest B&B S. Willard Street has to offer (and if you think that’s nothing, you should see all the B&Bs S. Willard Street has to offer) and we’ve essentially gorged ourselves on low-sugar, organic vegan maple-products
since arrival. I made a fun new video website for everyone to check out here, where you can find snippets of all our smarmy adventures (including one amazing 30-second clip of Jimi. Asleep. Tee hee).
I’ve kept the Blackberry on silent and in the pocket for most of the trip, so if Manhattan has burned down in my absence (which I have to secretly assume it has, or else you’d all be texting me), I am none the wiser. Beyond the eating and the more eating and the exploring, we’ve really only effectively made it to the Magic Hat brewery, and spent a baffling couple of hours strolling* through downtown Burlington**.
*’Strolling’ being a loosely applied metaphor for “shuffling while clinging to each others’ arms for support while trying to navigate the ice-luge sidewalks in the face of all that evil wind.”
**’downtown Burlington’ being a loosely applied metaphor for “the two square blocks the local Sidewalk Sweeper bothered to sweep off with his badass John Deere whirly-brush lawnmower attachment.”
And despite the lack of life outdoors (due to the negative double digit temperatures when the sun is not up — roughly 4pm-9am)
the locals seem to be alive, well and very friendly. One particularly geriatric man, out of nowhere, walking down the sidewalk, wished us a good day. Just smiled and happily related a warm sentiment of well-being and joy.
Jimi and I, of course, smiled back and then immediately turned to one another (the man may or may not have been out of earshot) and we were all HAVE WE STUMBLED INTO THE TWILIGHT ZONE?
We decided we must have, and were so preoccupied that we wandered right into a crosswalk when it was not actually our turn to cross. This had happened once before in the morning and do you know what Vermont drivers do when careless pedestrians just stroll into their immediate line of motion? Do you?
Manhattanites everywhere are clutching the arms of their computer chairs in terror, because in their frame of reference, the pedestrians DIE almost immediately after posing a question like this. But lo! In Vermont? The drivers? THEY STOP. They stop their soy-fueled, solar-charged hybrid Subarus laden with Yoga mats and kayaking fixtures vehicles (completely, as in cease all motion) and with a smile and a nod, they wave the lost New Yorkers across the street safely. Wouldn’t want to run the rabid meat-eaters over.
Everyone here is charming, and rosy-cheeked, and hasn’t eaten regular Mayonnaise in over a decade, easily. Everything here really is home-grown, completely organic and probably the reason why my body is now purging all the evil awfulness that has accrued in my innards out through my pores. Oh, vacation. How I love you.
Magic Hat Brewery was *awesome*– Awesome enough to earn its own blog post later on, complete with photographs and a video of Jimi completely losing his shit over how great the production floor is. Beyond that, there has been much time spent comatose. And eating. Did I mention the food here is pretty great, even if it is health-food?
The only other remarkable thing I’m finding — and Very Cool Susan who we met at Magic Hat and then ran into again later at our B&B, because the Vermont Universe is as small and as ironic as the ‘Stota Universe, corroborated my theory– all the women here do Yoga (and so their thighs are so skinny that they don’t even touch AT THE TOP) and none of them wear makeup.
Yes. I am completely serious. It’s like falling down the rabbit-hole. Except, creepier. More relaxing. And with better bacon.