Tell Me a Story: Magical Brattleboro

After Madison’s first communion Mass and a fabola celebratory brunch at The Falls Diner, I drove up over Hogback Mountain (stopping at the gift shop for their amazing maple nut fudge OF COURSE) and down into my new fave town, Brattleboro.

The burg has everything I want — art galleries and museums, cool schools*, mountains, festivals, funk!, great restaurants and so much more.

Cindy and Giovanni drove down from their farm in Randolph to meet me for a late lunch at Whetstone Station. (I had the fab tempeh tacos, thanks) Cindy proclaimed that Brattleboro is my town, that it seems a perfect fit for me. Yup. Except for that pesky lack of ocean.

She's suggested that I might want to make Brattleboro my new home, my new Valhalla. It's one hellovan idea BUT, don'cha know, there's no place like home and home is with The Amazing Bob, Jen and Oni here in Houghs Neck AKA Heaven, AKA Valhalla.

Having said that, I can totally see myself visiting this awesome little city a lot more.

As uzh, I stayed the night at the Latchis, the best small hotel EVAH! I was exhausted after my jampacked day of aural communication — Olympic level lipreading plus my very focused efforts to follow the ASL ‘terp at Mass — so I just curled up and read for the evening. My original scheme of playing Toulouse-Lautrec, sitting at the at Metropolis, sketching my fellow patrons, will have to wait for next visit.

The following morning, more or less refreshed, I went for an early walk around town. Ever since I was a kid, awake and full of mega energy before anyone else had given old Morpheus the heave ho, I’ve loved these just-past-sunrise solitary strolls. The quality of light is magical, full of promise — I'm certain that beautiful, strange and delightful discoveries are out there, waiting for me.