oh, vermont

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Sometimes I imagine my parallel imaginary life and in it, I am living in a snug Vermont cabin with a big front porch in the middle of a little orchard, with mud boots by the back door. The air smells green and woodsy and clean.

That is not my life at the moment, but I’m not complaining. Instead, I’m hopping a plane and heading for the leaves and chilly fall this weekend to meet up with some of my best old pals and kick around Burlington. And – bonus! – this Monday (Oct 17th) from 5-7pm I’ll be at the gorgeous Nido in Burlington, giving a demo and signing books. Please drop by, Vermonters! There will be a fabric sale and cupcakes and cocktails. I mean, it’s like the main food groups all in one place: fabric, sweets and booze.

Nido Fabric + Yarn  • 209 College Street  •  Suite 2e  •  Burlington, Vermont 05401

summerlist: summer sauna

I forgot to mention one thing that wasn’t on my summer list, because frankly, it wouldn't have sounded that great to me: a summer sauna.

But that was before I tried this one, a wood-fired sauna in a tiny wooden cabin at the edge of a Vermont pond. Carrying water up from the pond to create steam, heating up, then jumping into the pond to cool off. Then doing it all over again, until it was time for Heather’s fancy gin and tonics.

Check. And cheers.

the return from vacation

After swimming, sewing, and sitting on porches for summer rainstorms, I'm back at home. And feeling a little blue. I feel like an ungrateful jerk, complaining after almost two weeks away. But it’s hard to come back to the computer and deadlines and no humidity or water to jump into. Or sisters to sit on a porch with.

It was such a good trip. When I got off the plane in Burlington, I almost wept with happiness. For the warm air and seeing my Vermont sister and a long stretch of empty days ahead. We headed for an outdoor restaurant at the edge of the lake and pulled an about-face on our drink order because there was steel drum music playing and people puttering up to the dock in dinghies and all of a sudden, a gin and tonic wasn’t going to cut it. So we swapped our order for two pina coladas and hatched a plan to houseboat around the lake next summer.

And that’s kind of how everything went. Not much planning – just bobbing along the current of each moment, each hour, each afternoon. Should we make homemade ice cream or eat a Klondike bar out of the freezer? Read a magazine or a novel? Swim now or later?

Every decision was easy and the right one. And, really, how often can you say that?

I’m not ready for summer to end. But this end-of-summer melancholy is an old acquaintance. I think it means it’s been good. So let's make the end count.

If these photos look familiar, it's because I lazed out so utterly that I didn't take many photos. So I'm borrowing these from this post last summer. How's that for lazy?

vermont so far

Here are some highlights so far:

fresh rhubarb juice + raising a timber frame with the 
family + lake swimming + mussels over a campfire
(who knew?) + stalking hermit crabs with my niece
+ fireflies + thunderstorms on a porch + a drive-in
on my birthday + learning the ukelele

We are feeling truly summer-fied. This has been a 
near-perfect mix of family and friends and quiet
time and loud time. And when I get a handle on my
thousands of photos, I think I might put together a
few slide shows because some of the things we've 
done already (like raising a timber frame, the secret
lake camping and a beach weekend with old friends)
feel like a whole short story unto themselves.

PS, I'm not exactly sure why my font formatting has
suddenly changed. I'll see what I can do about this.

green mountains, here we come

We’re trying an experiment this summer, and relocating to my Vermont sister’s backyard for a few weeks. Her husband happens to make beautiful timber frame houses and barns, so the whole family is going to help raise one on their property, maybe even in time for us to stay in it.

We’re trying to pull off a work-vacation combo. So here’s what my brain looked like before leaving. This was when I was getting down to the nitty-gritty and slowly descending into my own personal whirl of mania.

But you know what? It’s all okay. In fact, it’s better than okay because on the other side of this to-do list are summer rainstorms and lightening bugs and lake swimming and bare feet and canning strawberries and driving down gravel roads with the windows down.

I’ll be sure to let you know how it’s going. In the meantime, have a great 4th. Hopefully, we're going to be camping on a secret island in the middle of one of our favorite lakes.