Kate picks me up at work.
We buy a reel mower at the Home Despot.
We head over to Gardener's Supply to pick up a few plants on order. I buy a bypass valve for our downspout in anticipation of putting in a rain barrel.
We go home- I mow our lawn for the first time of the season while Kate plants stuff. Until dark.
We make a run to the dump for trash and recycling. Lots of old bikes starting to pile up at the swap shop.
Onward to the yuppie food store for a little shopping. Card and wine for our morning/afternoon trip.
Down the road we go to Wolfeboro to visit Kate's great Aunt Ella and great Uncle George.
I realize that while there is absolutely no direct way to get from South Burlington to Wolfeboro, the way that Google Maps has selected for us is the long way, over bad roads.
After several passes through Wolfeboro, I realize that I should trust my five-year old memory of going to George and Ella's one time before instead of Google Maps, which has the wrong street name to access their street.
We arrive, late, but in time for a late lunch.
We tour the gardens at George and Ella's. They have divided all sorts of things for us to take. Astilbe, Autumn Sedum, Peonies.
George and Ella have a canoe they want to get rid of. It's a Mad River Canoe, Royalex, They don't use it anymore. Here are some paddles, a copy of the AMC Guide to Vermont and New Hampshire rivers. A compass, two PFDs. I'm floored by their generosity.
We have a drive around Wolfeboro. Big houses on the lake, big unbuilt subdivisions where an airfield once stood. George shows us the history museum. You can buy a brick. He's bought 11 bricks, in memory of his WWII buddies. He tells us about being in Paris on a three day pass, waiting top be shipped out to jump on Manchuria, when a man who spoke only French came in and said something about Hiroshima. George went back home to start college and meet Ella instead of going to Manchuria. Ella chimes in. There were almost no men in college here first year. Then, they all came back, 21, 22 years old in their crisp khakis.
Dinner. Ella's beet recipe- whole beets cut in half, four cans, heated up with a can of cranberry sauce. Horseradish to finish. Best I've ever had.
We watch TV before bed, alternating between the Celtics-Bulls playoff game and a public access broadcast of a local musical performance George and ella went to recently. A Piano virtuoso playing some amazing Chopin. The Celts beat the Bulls- game seven.
5:30, a knock at the bedroom door door and we are up. Ella makes coffee and french toast. George serves pineapple- it has Bromeline, he says. "They tested it on boxers and it speeds muscle recovery."
Hugs all around and we are on the road. This time we head south of the lake, but still, there is no direct way home. We are off the highway at bethel and cut over to Route 100. Kate leaves me at Lincoln Peak, Sugarbush. Dad meets me in the parking lot. It's the last weekend of the season. One trail open, all bumps and mud. The ski patrol has to shovel the run-out to keep people moving all the way back to the chair.
Dad and I get four runs before the fatigue kicks in. We drive back to Monkton, then back to South Burlington. We find Kate planting stuff like crazy.
Dad and I go for a four-mile run. When we get back, Kate is still planting. We get the canoe off of the Jeep. Kate is still planting stuff when dad leaves. We dig, divide, transplant and mulch until the shadows get long. I fire up the grill and get a couple of fillets going. 20 minutes in the smoke and a quick sear on all sides at the end for a perfect medium rare.
We finish planting, then stroll the yard to look at all our work, the remains of our dinner wine glasses in hand. All of the tools are away.
We fire up a yoga DVD and stretch for 45 minutes. I sure needed it.
Bed and sleep.