I am in a pretty B&B in Barnard, Vermont, in front of a roaring fireplace, with no cell service and a wireless connection that's only good for a few seconds at a time. I will post photos of Woodstock when I'm back in town, assuming Boston doesn't lose power from Sandy, the Frankenstorm. I'd forgotten just how beautiful Vermont is; I've always loved this area but hadn't been here in a decade after many years of visiting often. I missed this place more than I let myself realize, including its horses and trails. I learned to ride in the woods of South Woodstock when I was in my 20s, and those were some of the happiest hours of my life. I learned to canter here, in the snow, and it's time to try that again.
The shops here are full of publications, big and small, detailing the devastation that Irene wreaked a year ago. There's still plenty of damage to be seen; even a few roads and bridges remain closed. It's awful to contemplate a repeat of that in the next couple of days. I'm hoping the forecasters are wrong, and Sandy turns out to be one more over-hyped non-event. But it seems unlikely.
In happier, furrier news, we heard that Luna, the tiny calico kitten, was adopted by a lucky family today. And we are planning to meet the splendid Connecticut kittens tomorrow — Charly the fluffy tabby, and his gray-and-white brother Mr. Buttons. I'm nervous! This will likely be a life-changing event, so philosophizing, worrying, taking stock, deep breaths, and trepidation are in order. I'm assuming we're about to fall madly in love, and will be bringing at least one of these little guys home. I just wish I knew how Wendy and Possum feel about kittens. They have not been forthcoming on the subject although I've broached it more than once. They got along beautifully with Snicky and Bertie, but they could react very differently to a kitten. I hope we brought them up well enough so they remember their manners and enjoy getting to know a new friend.
I will keep you posted; it's time to put another log of the fire. I could get used to this.