We are back in Atlanta, our summer Vermont adventures at an end. Boo! But it is great to snuggle with the cats and we returned to a bountiful crop of tomatoes. Fresh tomato sauce and spaghetti was on the menu tonight!
In our remaining days at camp, we had some good sun days. Saturday started with breakfast pancakes (with blueberries or raspberries) courtesy of Dawn and then we basically had a sunny, lake averill day. Alan and I circumnavigated the lake in the canoe, then we had beach time. Then we had a new type of adventure: "Chicks on the East Branch Road."
When we finished up with Bill on Thursday, we had turned a corner back in the timber company land and happened upon two chickens -- obviously domesticated, obviously beautiful, obviously out of place. Mentioned this to Dawn when she and John came up on Friday and she was determined to catch them and take them home to her flock (they will survive for no time in the north woods due to predators or the cold). So, after our beach time on Saturday, Dawn and I headed up with the large fishing net and two cardboard boxes, determined to catch the chickens.
First challenge was to find them. Fortunately, they were right where we saw them on Thursday. Next up, the strategy -- Dawn charged through the woods to drive them onto the road where I waited with the large fishing net -- all in bathing suits, sandles, and t-shirts. No, there are no videos. And we caught the dark one, which we named "Sable." But "Averill," the sassy red hair was a total *itch. "She" even flew.
A gentleman in a Ford pickup stopped by, mightily entertained at this spectacle, which I must admit, must have looked amusing. We sent him on his way.
I ran back home to get the boys for help, but even with four people we couldn't land Averill. "She" ran us ragged and even dumped Alan in the dirt. Time to call it a day. Humans 1, chickens 1.
The laugh of the story was that when Dawn got home and introduced Sable to her flock, it turned out "she" was a "he." Suddenly, the dumping of roosters made more sense..... I'm gone but Dawn promises to return with a have-a-heart trap and some scratch next weekend. They're beautiful chickens --gorgeous plumage and they really should be saved. I have complete faith in Dawn.
My Mom arrived Sunday, Alan's Monday. Sunday was dark and rainy, and we had friends Hans and Inge over for drinks, meaning we had to have a roaring fire. Turns out my Mom and Hans both went to the same graduate program in urban planning at Harvard back in the 1950s -- and Hans knew Mom's roommate. Small world.
Tuesday, we headed to North Hatley for lunch, which was very nice. Our regular restaurant appears to have changed hands but the patio was still the same lovely place and the mussels were excellent. For the last afternoon at camp, Alan and I went down to the beach, where we found the loon family -- they were very close in, feeding, and generally enjoying the day. I got Jen's lens and tried to hold it steady -- not a trivial feat.
Dinner was at Quimby's -- cookout at the rock, which was just lovely.
Back at home, a tomato bonanza!
No comments:
Post a Comment