Task 3: Craftsbury Outdoor Center

 Yet another task for 2014 completed.  Cross-Country Skiing at Craftsbury Outdoor Center.  I have heard from several people that it is beautiful and worth the drive, but like most things in Vermont, it is so far from the beaten path that if you get lost you're on your own (we did get lost just in case you're wondering, but the gruff old Vermonter shoveling his driveway got us back on track).

Once we finally arrived at our destination, we made out way to the Nordic center to rent skis for Little Man.  He was very happy when the woman gave him poles and guarded them with his life (I have not let him use them at the other place we have gone to). 

Once we were suited up and on the classic tracks, Little Man was off.  There were a lot more people here to watch than other places we have gone to and I think he was trying to keep up with some of the groups that went speeding past.  He was even more excited when we arrived at our first hill.  He will deny this to the bitter end, but there was a definite "wahoo" as he sped to the bottom.  He actually made us turn around so he could go down the hill again. 

However, the sad truth of the day was it was only 18 degrees outside and an hour was about all we could handle.  Little Man did great until we were in sight of the Nordic center.  He sped up and fell a few times in that last little stretch and became frustrated.  I would say the words "don't talk to me" came out of his mouth at least seven times over 150 meters, and there was no way I could purchase hot chocolate quick enough.  I did ask him if he would like to come back on a warmer day; he said he would, so despite the cold he must have liked it. 

Another thing checked of the list, and something we would return to; on a warmer day. 

Memories

After almost five years of being on the market, my grandparents' farm sold last week.  It is bittersweet for me.  The land was not being used and honestly needed to be sold, however, so much of my life was spent on the farm.  I am happy that it has been sold to farmers who are going to make good use of the land and are already working to restore the old house and barn, but it also means that it is no longer in my family. 

For starters, the farm held a classic red Vermont barn.  One my cousins and I spent many hours playing in.  Its old milk house had become our club house and many dares were made around the old hayloft.  We were lucky we never fell though any of the old boards.  It was the type of barn that tourist and locals stop to take pictures of, and I hope more than anything else that the new owners will restore it to its old glory. 

 In addition to the farm, there were several remnants of the past.  My grandfather had kept three old Ford tractors in working condition along with an old Jeep.  All of these were things that he would often take us along for the ride on.  I have several memories bumping up the hill to the blackberry bushes in that old Jeep.  There were also several old broken down cars along what used to be an old country road along the back portion on the farm.  This was by far one of my favorite places to walk with my mother when we would visit the farm.  There was something magical about that old country lane that I will miss dearly. 

 Along with the amazing land surrounding the farm, there were all the little places hidden within the house. My favorite place was a bed upstairs next to an old bookcase.  Both of my grandparents were avid readers and it was evident throughout the house.  Even before I could read I would sit on the bed and flip through the pages of classics such as "Call Of The Wild" and look at the pictures in the books I would someday sit there reading. 

I am sad that I will no longer be able to visit the farm, but I am hopeful that the new family that will live there will make many memories of their own, and put the land to good use.  It is what my grandparents would have wanted.  

Evolution of Food

As we sat eating our lunch at the farmers market this week, I realized that the evolution of what we eat has been a complicated one.  Parts of this evolution have actually been more of a devolution of food in fact. 

For starters, my grandparents were everything you think of when the image of old Vermont dairy farmers come to mind.  Both grew up during the Depression; nothing was wasted.  As much food as they could glean from the land they did.  My grandparents stopped diary farming right around the time I was born, but my grandfather was still an incredible gardener and hunter.  I spent many hours eating fresh tomatoes from the garden and while I have never actually skinned a deer, I have seen it done many times.  My grandmother was an incredible baker despite the fact that she was diabetic (you only ate from the wrong pie once, before you asked if it was the one with or without sugar). Most of the pies she made were made with berries and rhubarb from the farm.  They also had the most incredible compost system ever! We may have used some of the worms from it for fishing in the stream that ran through the farm.  So what happened to our food from there?

Next, my parents' generation moved away from the farm and were then slammed with an economic boom.  Rather than the labor intensive job of raising your own food, everything turned to convenience.  Mac and cheese from a box, ravioli from a can, and the ever-present drive through.  I look back at my childhood and often realize that what I ate whas horrible.  Not that everything I ate was bad, my dad is a wonderful cook and until a few years ago continued to hunt.  In addition to this, I have noticed that both of my parents have gone back to gardening and both seem to have this green thumb that I unfortunately do not posses.  While my plants are barely hanging in, both of them are harvesting monster vegetables out of their gardens.  So even their generation is beginning to turn back to the way things were.

Then you come to my generation.  A generation that grew up on convenience, yet spent time at the family farm.  A generation that has seen its parents turn back to the way things used to be.  A generation that is incredibly obese and does not want their children to end up the same way.  We have turned back to local and organic foods.  Raising our own animals and growing gardens.  Maybe not at the same scale as our grandparents (we don't have the time) but a smaller reflection of that time.  But there is something different.  In addition to wanting our food to be safe, we are also a much more culturally diverse generation.  There are cultures and flavors that have made their way to be added into the classics.  The farmer's market doesn't just consist of farmers, but people who have come here from other places and are trying to start up small businesses.  My son knows what African, Pakistani and a whole variety of Asian foods taste like.  Some of it he craves, knowing he can only get it at the farmer's market.  It is wonderful; not only have we ventured back to our much healthier roots, we have added something a little different to it.  There is still hope and good food does still exist. 

 

Just because I needed a picture.