Life on the mountain

So our trip began with an unseasonably sunny warm late fall day, a quick stop at the wood fired pizza tavern on the way out of the mountains, and a car load of happy people. We were heading for the pickle festival, as it were, or bust.

We never got there. When my wife and I were younger, and cruising around on awesome road trips, we always got there, wherever that was at the time. We would pick arbitrary destinations and assign tasks, or scavenger hunt items of sorts. I remember one trip to Vermont and all throughout, we stopped at every reasonable covered bridge along our path, and soon, the detours got longer, and our trip changed for the better. We had set the scavenger hunt at taking a walk together across each bridge...By far one of the BEST trips ever. Burlington, bed and breakfasts, Ben and Jerry's, various college campuses, summer camps where friends were working. Epic.

Now we were in a Suburu with two wonderful children at a flea market/store somewhere above Rosendale. The worm hole opened, and we fell in. My wife had a marvelous time, and the kids loved it too. They all enjoyed shopping for each other, and for themselves.

I stayed in the car and read the Times. I went in briefly and found a nice Revere-Ware loaf pan, vintage, for 9 dollars. I put it on the counter and went back to the den, which for now was the front passenger seat of our Japanese mobile abode.

After they returned, it was already 4:30. So we opted to bring our little ones to the park in Kingston instead. The one with the giant wooden castle. The one they always remember, and how could one forget. It;s huge AND awesome to boot.

So then we went shopping. I checked out kitchen-stuff. I found a Joseph and Mary nutcracker set. It was very relaxing. I picked up a wonderful local chicken to roast later that evening at ADAMS farms. And some broccoli, to make an alfredo dish. And honey bear so we could use and refill him at the table.

After a great night's sleep (alfredo) I awoke to a day of meetings which was alot of fun, and inspirational. Afterwords, I met for a dinner party in honor of a wonderful mother of a friend who had returned to town. She grew up in France. She recalled searching the hills of her youth for escargot, and then we enjoyed`great cheeses together that night. It was dively special, to say the least. Precisely the lind of night for a great red wine...

The next day, I participated as a volunteer within the Queen's Galley organization, a Non-For-Profit group, totally encompassing all of the needs and hunger of the community, both for actual meals and for correlative education and instruction. I was amazed at the amount of heart behind what was going on. Then my amazement turned to reverence and deep repect. This was where I belonged, I said to myself. Simply feeding those around me who were in need of a meal, both actually and some spiritually. It was timelessly benevolent, and I soon lost track of time assisting with all the chopping and serving that goes on there throughout the day. Again, I was on my way to Shandaken, where I had a fabulous grilled rueben sandwich with a friend. He was coming out of the woods, off the trial. I was jealous...so I bought him lunch...We had coffee and chatted for an hour. It was so long overdue.

In going home later that evening, I understood that I felt radically different. I had arrived within an amazing relationship, an amazing family, and a continued opportunity to serve others with food.

Much to be thankful for indeed. Such is life in the mountains, on a mountain. It gives you enough perspective to see what is truly important. Which for me, has always been the forest through the trees...