Friday, January 21, 2011
Penguin Plunge fundraising!
I'll be plunging into the freezing cold waters of lake Champlain on Feb 5th, 2011 in Burlington, VT. It's for a good cause - Special Olympics. Any small donation would help tremendously.
Thanks for helping! Oh, and I'll be sure to post pics and video of my....uh...insanity.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Mud worse than snow
If you're going to move to Vermont you've got to come to terms with mud. Vermont's mud season is typically in April but apparently we can get spells right in the middle of winter that'll be just the same. Anytime temperatures get above freezing for more than 24 hours it turns the roads to pure pig heaven. It's a vehicle's worse nightmare. I come from a pretty muddy state, but nothing like Vermont. Most of the roads here are made from sand and crushed limestone, and it makes for a squirrely trip anywhere. I can't imagine any other state that isn't harder on a vehicle than this one. I find my Matrix becomes unrecognizable on a regular bases, becoming caked in a salty mix of whatever it is they spray on the roads, and the sand they spread on the back roads. My car is red but you could hardly tell, and god help a cop trying to read my license plate. Could be a good thing. Not that you'd see a cop in these parts, so thank goodness crime is non-existent.
Yesterday, my wife and I took a 45 min trip South of here to Lebanon New Hampshire, a small city that has commercial amenities to purchase what we need, in this case something for fleas. You'd think with these temperatures we wouldn't have to worry about fleas, but no, we do...er the poor dogs. Fleas these days seem to be becoming more and more immune to whatever pesticide we decide to splash them with. All of them becoming very pricey too, only to find they did little in the way of killing them. Many a product I've spent money on only to find these damn parasites leaping and frolicking on the dogs. I added biospot spray and medicine to the product line, a combination that cost me about $40. We still had comfortis for the Chihuahua, but that requires a vet trip and a prescription. Works as long as you don't have a massive infestation. We did back in Pearlington Mississippi, but so far not in Vermont. Anyway, this trip down to Lebanon takes us several miles on Vermont's back roads - all very muddy from the recent warm up. My wife gripped the "oh shit" bar with white knuckles as our little car slipped and jostled uncontrollably from one rut to the next. The trick was keeping up your speed as not to bog down, but slow enough not to lose control. Really dangerous when other traffic shows up, both of you have to perilously navigate the muddy ruts without smacking into each other. For being a little afternoon errand run it's quite the adrenaline rush.
Without a doubt I prefer frozen back roads - icy and hard, then to deal with 6 inches of mud. Once we made it to the interstate, the local I-89 heading south, the car's steering wheel vibrated terribly at speeds of 65mph. Why? Well simple, all that mud riding causes mud to cake in behind the front wheels and it throws them out of balance. Fun huh? Nope, give me snow and ice any day.
Life in Vermont
I've been up here now for 2 1/2 months, er since October 10th if I recall, and there have been misgivings, surprises, and attractiveness to the transplantation.
Vermont, well it's more rural than even I expected, and seems to be a state that got stuck in 1950 and perhaps even further back. I live in Brookfield which is pretty much smack dab in the middle of the state situated on a mountain. You could easily pass through the town and never really realized that you were in one. Farms mostly and all scattered in the hinter lands around these tiny hamlets that go for towns...at least to the locals. Think Norman Rockwell with 18th century shops lined up on a single main street punctuated by a tall steepled church and if you're lucky a 18th century library. Every town has a town hall, New England style - rectangular and white with a bell tower. There are a few 20th century interloping companies popping up, but they're still cloaked in 18th century adornments - small shops, antique lamps, and 200 year old bricks. The bank I use is located in Bethel, and when you walk in it's like stepping into a wild west movie set. Original iron bars at the counter, ornate ionic interior artecture, and smell of an antique shop. I'm a little surprised the teller doesn't have one of those little bow ties and a waxed mustache. That's what I mean by having modern commercialization blending in with the Vermont time machine.
The people are quiet and a bit stand offish at first. Their humor escapes me as I find them laughing when I'm left wondering what was funny and vice versa. Their accents vary considerably as many are from Boston, Philadelphia, NY, and Maine. My boss at work is from Maine and has a squeally fast talking jibe that took a little at first to get use to. She's also a open and proud lesbian. Married in fact to one of the supervisors and they have a kid. VT is very liberal and open minded about marriage, god, and the gay community. I'm not bothered by it in the least as I grew up in the French Quarter of New Orleans - gay central. Those from Boston seem to be the most bothered by it, and also the most outspoken about politics in general. Very racists too, and not the kind of racism you find in the South. The South has pretty much gone underground with their racist feelings, keeping it between themselves and in their private worlds. Some of the people I've met from Boston have no problem using the vernacular and hate spittled colloquialisms in the South's hay day. Very Republican, very conservative, and very opinionated.
Vermont strongly supports their troops, and it seems they are firm believers that we're over "there" to protect our freedoms over here. They're not conspiratorialist by nature, but many despise government in general. They vent these feelings at their town halls, and they're not shy about it too.
There is a strong organic hippie movement here. You'll find organic whole food shops in pretty much every town - raw milk, fresh eggs, and cheese is readily available to anyone. You can't be afraid to ask though. I pass up cows, chickens, goats, and horses on the way to work everyday. I might care to mention to that the roads are pretty much without traffic, and about the only time where you might find yourself slowed is if they're working on the streets or power lines. There are few to any cops, and about the only time you have to obey the speed limit is in the towns. They'll get you for speeding in their school zones, they're very protective of the old and young, but outside that you're on your own. The local youth drive too damn fast if you ask me and I regularly find their stupid asses off the road and into a ditch. Most towns specifically require their cops to stay within the township and NOT to patrol the rural roads outside of that. So there is a certain wildness to where I'm at.
My neighbors are splendid people who probably out of necessity are eager to help if asked. I have a large farm next to me with horses and cows. Their freezer is full of turkeys and chickens from the Fall slaughter. He comes to plow my driveway if the snow gets above 4". That's what is worked out by the landlord. He's told me though that if I need help with something he would be happy to come help, and I told him likewise.
The home I rented here is situated up on a hill next to my neighbor and we're both close to 2000' in elevation, so we get quite a bit of snow compared to the valley's. The closest town to me is Randolph - can't really call Brookfield a town, doesn't have anything but a church and a library - and I'm 20 min's via long winding mountainous road. A road that turns to mud at the first signs of any thaw. A big thaw recently as the temps got up to 50 degrees and with the recent snow base, hmm maybe 12" there's been lots of mud making going on. A real challenge for my low to the ground Toyota matrix. One of the first things I did when I got up here is go and purchase some good snow tires, studded no less, and took care of the brakes. The pads were just about gone on the front rotors. My small pickup truck is parked for the winter, being a rear wheel drive and no snow tires. It does have much better clearance though. I just hate driving non-4x4 trucks in the snow and mud. The house is 200 years old, one of the first homes built in Brookfield, and the original owner built the famous floating bridge - a antiquated historical structure that spans Brookfields pond. Old wooden blanks tied to giant barrels. The poor old thing has been rebuilt numerous times and is currently closed for repairs again. The township was able to procure some federal funds to fix it, so I should be able to get some great photo's of me driving across it one day. If we don't run out of fuel before then. I wish I were kidding.
The house was a bad pick for me though, since the landlord doesn't use a wood stove and won't allow one either. It's very leaky to the elements and uses a heating oil blown furnace. A wasteful monster located down in the stone basement. When it gets below twenty degree's it kicks on just about every 15 min's and I keep the thermostat set to 65. Any lower and my wife might leave me. Even at this temp we pretty much dress up when relaxing in the house, and have two thick down comforters to sleep under at night. I've done what I could to insulate the house and make things cheaper for me, all based off the advice given to me by the locals, and it includes sealing all the windows with plastic, caulking the trim, and sealing off unusued doors with blankets. I've also sealed off the upstairs so it'll only heat the one floor. Nothing's air tight here and most of the hot air escapes the ceiling joists and warms the upstairs nonetheless. There are 200 year old rough cut beams spanning the ceiling, and are quite lovely to look at, admiring the workmanship and sweat it took to hand cut and whittle them into 40' square timbers. We have a bare earth basement with original stone walls, and would make for a great root cellar, for which I'm sure was once used as. The house is located on 9 hilly acres that descend towards a big lake or pond. I've taken the trail down to it many times, and it's now frozen over. Pretty soon I'll try my luck at ice fishing, something I've never done. Gonna have to be careful though, I'm a big fella and I'm have no inclination to join the power bear club. Think I'll be taking a rope and and ice pick with me.
Vermont, well it's more rural than even I expected, and seems to be a state that got stuck in 1950 and perhaps even further back. I live in Brookfield which is pretty much smack dab in the middle of the state situated on a mountain. You could easily pass through the town and never really realized that you were in one. Farms mostly and all scattered in the hinter lands around these tiny hamlets that go for towns...at least to the locals. Think Norman Rockwell with 18th century shops lined up on a single main street punctuated by a tall steepled church and if you're lucky a 18th century library. Every town has a town hall, New England style - rectangular and white with a bell tower. There are a few 20th century interloping companies popping up, but they're still cloaked in 18th century adornments - small shops, antique lamps, and 200 year old bricks. The bank I use is located in Bethel, and when you walk in it's like stepping into a wild west movie set. Original iron bars at the counter, ornate ionic interior artecture, and smell of an antique shop. I'm a little surprised the teller doesn't have one of those little bow ties and a waxed mustache. That's what I mean by having modern commercialization blending in with the Vermont time machine.
The people are quiet and a bit stand offish at first. Their humor escapes me as I find them laughing when I'm left wondering what was funny and vice versa. Their accents vary considerably as many are from Boston, Philadelphia, NY, and Maine. My boss at work is from Maine and has a squeally fast talking jibe that took a little at first to get use to. She's also a open and proud lesbian. Married in fact to one of the supervisors and they have a kid. VT is very liberal and open minded about marriage, god, and the gay community. I'm not bothered by it in the least as I grew up in the French Quarter of New Orleans - gay central. Those from Boston seem to be the most bothered by it, and also the most outspoken about politics in general. Very racists too, and not the kind of racism you find in the South. The South has pretty much gone underground with their racist feelings, keeping it between themselves and in their private worlds. Some of the people I've met from Boston have no problem using the vernacular and hate spittled colloquialisms in the South's hay day. Very Republican, very conservative, and very opinionated.
Vermont strongly supports their troops, and it seems they are firm believers that we're over "there" to protect our freedoms over here. They're not conspiratorialist by nature, but many despise government in general. They vent these feelings at their town halls, and they're not shy about it too.
There is a strong organic hippie movement here. You'll find organic whole food shops in pretty much every town - raw milk, fresh eggs, and cheese is readily available to anyone. You can't be afraid to ask though. I pass up cows, chickens, goats, and horses on the way to work everyday. I might care to mention to that the roads are pretty much without traffic, and about the only time where you might find yourself slowed is if they're working on the streets or power lines. There are few to any cops, and about the only time you have to obey the speed limit is in the towns. They'll get you for speeding in their school zones, they're very protective of the old and young, but outside that you're on your own. The local youth drive too damn fast if you ask me and I regularly find their stupid asses off the road and into a ditch. Most towns specifically require their cops to stay within the township and NOT to patrol the rural roads outside of that. So there is a certain wildness to where I'm at.
My neighbors are splendid people who probably out of necessity are eager to help if asked. I have a large farm next to me with horses and cows. Their freezer is full of turkeys and chickens from the Fall slaughter. He comes to plow my driveway if the snow gets above 4". That's what is worked out by the landlord. He's told me though that if I need help with something he would be happy to come help, and I told him likewise.
The home I rented here is situated up on a hill next to my neighbor and we're both close to 2000' in elevation, so we get quite a bit of snow compared to the valley's. The closest town to me is Randolph - can't really call Brookfield a town, doesn't have anything but a church and a library - and I'm 20 min's via long winding mountainous road. A road that turns to mud at the first signs of any thaw. A big thaw recently as the temps got up to 50 degrees and with the recent snow base, hmm maybe 12" there's been lots of mud making going on. A real challenge for my low to the ground Toyota matrix. One of the first things I did when I got up here is go and purchase some good snow tires, studded no less, and took care of the brakes. The pads were just about gone on the front rotors. My small pickup truck is parked for the winter, being a rear wheel drive and no snow tires. It does have much better clearance though. I just hate driving non-4x4 trucks in the snow and mud. The house is 200 years old, one of the first homes built in Brookfield, and the original owner built the famous floating bridge - a antiquated historical structure that spans Brookfields pond. Old wooden blanks tied to giant barrels. The poor old thing has been rebuilt numerous times and is currently closed for repairs again. The township was able to procure some federal funds to fix it, so I should be able to get some great photo's of me driving across it one day. If we don't run out of fuel before then. I wish I were kidding.
The house was a bad pick for me though, since the landlord doesn't use a wood stove and won't allow one either. It's very leaky to the elements and uses a heating oil blown furnace. A wasteful monster located down in the stone basement. When it gets below twenty degree's it kicks on just about every 15 min's and I keep the thermostat set to 65. Any lower and my wife might leave me. Even at this temp we pretty much dress up when relaxing in the house, and have two thick down comforters to sleep under at night. I've done what I could to insulate the house and make things cheaper for me, all based off the advice given to me by the locals, and it includes sealing all the windows with plastic, caulking the trim, and sealing off unusued doors with blankets. I've also sealed off the upstairs so it'll only heat the one floor. Nothing's air tight here and most of the hot air escapes the ceiling joists and warms the upstairs nonetheless. There are 200 year old rough cut beams spanning the ceiling, and are quite lovely to look at, admiring the workmanship and sweat it took to hand cut and whittle them into 40' square timbers. We have a bare earth basement with original stone walls, and would make for a great root cellar, for which I'm sure was once used as. The house is located on 9 hilly acres that descend towards a big lake or pond. I've taken the trail down to it many times, and it's now frozen over. Pretty soon I'll try my luck at ice fishing, something I've never done. Gonna have to be careful though, I'm a big fella and I'm have no inclination to join the power bear club. Think I'll be taking a rope and and ice pick with me.
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