Yes, it’s possible if you crash with friends. A neighbor’s Vermont wedding prompted us to head north last week.
It was a lovely, all-day affair on the groom’s family's farm.
On the way there, we stopped to visit the birth site of Joseph Smith, the founder of the Mormon church. Elder Buswell told us fantastic stories of attempts to convert the Aztecs 3000 years ago, magic glasses, and buried treasure.
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Francesca with Elder Buswell
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Best of all, his attempts to convert us were gentle and non-threatening.
After the wedding we headed to Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom to enjoy an outdoor performance of the Bread & Puppet Circus.
This renown company has been performing radical political theater since 1964.
Outhouse advertisement, four seats, no waiting
In one of the show's twelve acts, the Supreme Court announced they had voted 6 to 3 to ban circuses. When the troupe’s lawyer objected on the grounds of “tigers”, three of them ran out to eat the justices. Blood (well, red fabric) flew everywhere.
After the grand finale, hot sour-dough rye bread -spread with fresh aioli- was shared with 800 of us.
Francesca sharing bread with Peter Schulmann. He and his wife, Elka, started B&P in 1964.
In the sixteen-acre field behind us another pageant began. A chorus sang as Mother Sun rotated like a large, lazy galaxy.
After that another distant drama took place ending with a fifty-foot flying dragon swooping in to eat the evil doers.
The good guys usually come out ahead in Bread & Puppet Theater productions.
After almost three hours of performances we were invited to tour the Puppet Museum 400 yards away.
An ancient barn shelters hundreds of puppets from 58-years past.
Some are twelve-feet tall.
Their gift shop sold what they call “cheap art”, hand-made prints to help finance the circus’ sixty-person staff.
The company is on the road much of the year. They will be in multiple Maine locations this week.
After hours of mind-blowing entertainment we retreated to our BnB in nearby Glover, VT.
An outstanding breakfast can brighten any day.
We enjoyed one at the historic Busy Bee Diner in Glover. It's been owned and operated by women since 1932.
Denise’s pancakes were as big as hubcaps. Her brother, Jerry, keeps the Bee in fresh maple syrup (“The best, she said, very dark!”).
Heading four hours east took us to the coast of Maine. Bunches of Coconut Grove friends have summer homes there.
The "Captain's House" in Round Pond
We stayed in both Demariscotta and Belfast. Our gracious hosts took us hiking on pristine islands off-shore.
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Hiking on Hog Island
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In Round Pond we met Buddy, a lobsterman who will be marrying a writer we admire on Saturday. Inside "The Captain’s House” (photo above) there is still much the seafarer’s old things including his tools, a two-seat outhouse and this crazy hat.
Our buddy Paul is all over Belfast. He owns an upscale indoor farmer's market, a marina, and the Belfast Yacht Club.
You can join the red-clad club if you own (at least) a canoe and pay a $2 fee.
Next to the club the presidential yacht, "Sequoia", is plastic-wrapped and awaiting restoration.
The 104-footer served as the "Floating White House" for eight administrations, from Hoover to Carter. It's been stuck in Belfast for three years.
Sunrise on Belfast Bay
Our friends,Tom and Meg, are turning this elderly Belfast school into a 11,000 s.f. residence.
It seemed every wall had large windows or blackboards. Thankfully, the cafeteria line was short.
We think we over-booked on this trip. It seemed we were trying out a new bed almost every night.
We spent last two in Boston with Francesca's brother and his wife. The architects live in the city's "Little Italy" which is called The North End.
On a tour of MIT's Haydon Library. It's one of many buildings we saw designed by their firm, "KVA".
The North End was like visiting a small Italian city. Who knew you could cram so many red-sauce restaurants, Italian bakers, pasta-makers, and butchers into eight-square blocks.
They party with celebratory “feasts” every week.
Each features a colorful parade, lively music, and wine flowing freely. There was still white confetti on the ground from the "97th Annual Italian Feast of the Healing Saints Cosmas and Damian" a few days ago. They’ll be feting St. Anthony this weekend.
In Bean Town we were surrounded by history.
If you follow their three-mile brick path ("The Freedom Trail") it’ll take you to past half of the sites you recall from eight-grade history.
We trudged up Bunker Hill, went down inside our oldest war ship, the USS Constitution, then toured the house of Paul Revere.
Paul on his horse next to North Church.
After that midnight ride we learned Paul fathered 16 kids, made marvelous silver for wealthy clients -and- dentures for his friends.
I wish I could have been one of them. These epic summer adventures have left me with one less tooth.
Finally our freedom trail has taken us back to Gainesville. We look forward to being free to do nothing, to going nowhere, and to sleeping in our favorite bed again.
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