A sad day today. The Jelly Mill in Manchester, VT - along with it’s companion shops and restaurant “The Buttery” are closing. Forever.
The restaurant closed some while ago for renovations, and shall never open again. No more weekend trip to Manchester for Butternut Squash and Apple soup.
Goodbye, Jelly Mill. You will be missed.
I am posting this from the passenger’s seat of a Subaru on Route 7 in Pittsfield, MA.
We’re passing Pontoosuc Lake, according to the GPS that’s running through the same Bluetooth dongle as the connection to the cell phone.
I was ready to pitch the thing this morning - Street Atlas took its sweet-ass time finding the configuration dialog for the GPS. Once that got going, everything went smooth.
Sometimes I don’t hate computers so much.
Reading often triggers random thoughts in my brain. Strange, but it happens to the best of us. Suddenly find ourselves thinking even after all the careful avoidance.
So I got to realizing that I blow up for no terribly good reason. Something silly happens, like a drink gets bumped into and I get a little spillage on me. And I blow up. And then I’m OK again. It’s like I have this bottomless well of anger in me somewhere; unfocused, undirected. There’s no source for it, I haven’t really got anything to be THAT angry about in my life.
But I blow up and I yell at my friends. And they don’t deserve it. So if any of you happen to read this, I’m sorry guys. If I ever figure it out, I’ll let you know. Feel free to haul off and belt me the next time I do it. I probably deserve it.
10/1. Nine months gone, three to go. I expect that I’ll start hearing Christmas music in the stores next week some time.
In 4 weeks, the trees will be naked. Two weeks after that, frost on the car in the morning.
Then, Thanksgiving. Oh, and snow. I suppose the motorcycle needs to go into storage before that happens.
And then, it’s all over. Back to the top and start again.
They don’t make years as long as they used to.