Friday: Valley, Wedding stuff, and the Big Buck

On Friday, Amanda came into town and we had breakfast at Khatouna’s with our old friend Stacy. Stacy and Amanda were roommates way back, and lived in that cutie pie apartment just over the covered bridge in Waitsfield. We ate Khatouna’s good food (that woman makes anything taste better than anyone else can), and gossiped about what people are up to. Before we knew it, it was two o’clock.

Hot and sticky, Amanda and I dashed down to the river for a swim before heading over to the Big Buck Lodge, to score ourselves a bedroom in our weekend digs. The Buck is Jesse’s weekend ski-house, and is well-appointed in the way of the weekend warrior. The only "big buck" appears as a tattery, taxidermed doe’s head screwed to the wall above the stairwell, old-fashioned tele-skis and boots are screwed to other walls, and six bunkrooms can sleep somewhere around twenty people. We scored the next-to-the-bathroom bedroom and waited for other folks to roll in, before accidentally crashing Chris and Emily’s wedding rehearsal. Sorry, y'all!

Then it was off to Flatbread for our favorite vittles and wine. The experience at American Flatbread is rivaled by none… only open on Friday and Saturday nights, the old barn and woodfired oven produce some of the very yummiest food around. There’s always a long wait, so we sit by the fire outside and drink wine and talk to strangers who become friends. Still the same folks tending to the inside, samesame, goodsame. A little on the tipsy side, after our vino and dinner, we headed back to Millbrook for cocktail hour and mingling. Cory and Annie, Philibuster, Matt Reilly, Shippee and JoAnne, and all of Chris’ siblings were there in full force, and by the time we got there the first keg was already tapped. No worries, there was more to be had. This was not a weekend for want of beer.

We played awhile there, under the tent at Millbrook, before heading over to the Hyde Away for another round. Oh, Hyde Away, you are still the same and I love you. Sean was tending bar there, still there, samesame. Nice to see him. When I found him tending bar the next night at the wedding, there it was again, samesame, littlevalley.

After the Hyde Away, a dark walk up the dirt road and back to the Big Buck, where two refrigerators of Magic Hat and Long Trail and Otter Creek awaited us. Talk turned to the old story of the T-Rex, Chris’ infamous dance of yore, topic of many years’ worth of making-fun-of-Chris Herlihy. T-Rex chatter went on awhile, and a debate ensued about where the photo evidence of this particular form of movement had gone. (Burned by Chris Herlihy, I think.) General consensus was that there would most certainly be some T-Rexing taking place on the dancefloor at the wedding.

I shared a room with Amanda and Matty, and when we went to bed we giggled and talked awhile before drifting off. "T-Rex!" I heard Matty say after awhile, "That is funny."

And that is what Matt Reilly talks about in his sleep, as he drifts off, dreaming of Chris Herlihy. Almost beats the original T-Rex story.

oh, i love my old valley.

Back in the valley again. The dear, dear Mad River Valley, home of youthful adventure and debauchery and learning and the good old days. The Valley is still the same. People are still driving around in the same pickup trucks with the same canoes on top (canoes this time of year, instead of skis). Everyone looks pretty much the same, but a few years older. "I heard you were in town," they say when I run into them, after I've been in town for less than an hour.

Rural Vermont living is great in this way, it is so so wonderful. And it's also terrible, because privacy ain't real easy to come by.

I ran into my old friend Jacob at the post office, and he is beautiful and doing well, building canoes and kayaks and healthier than I've ever seen him. He is vibrant and and happy and clear, his hair is incredibly lovely (go with your bad self, Jacob!), and we talked about those good old days, how we weren't so clear back then, and how great it is to know clarity and inner peace. I got rundown on old crew, J-Ham's baby, Chris' housebuying plans, etc. People growed up. "Kevin is still Kevin," Jacob told me. Good thing, since that boy is a sizzler.

Found out about a party on Sunday in Montpelier, for Joel's birthday, where I'll likely run into anyone I haven't happened upon already, and where I'll get my play on with some of the old cats. It's funny, as I was driving into town today, I felt a little bit lost. Wondering what I'd do, if I'd feel lonely, if I'd find enough stuff to occupy me during the non-wedding stuff time. But lickety-split, as is always the case in the Valley, I've got some good mellow plans, and the lovefest is on.

Went river swimming in the Mad, to cool off from the sticky day that I would never complain about, because these days are so rare around these parts. Nice and cool and clean, got the travel stink off.

Staying the night with Khatouna, my second mama, who is also lovely and vibrant and clear these days. With wine and chocolate, we can talk a whole night away until sunrise, and we have lots to catch up about.

Remember what I said a few days ago about not being an easterner anymore? I think I was mistaken. Still got it, can't shake it. So happy to be here. So so so content right now. Except for one thing. I need groceries, and all the stores closed at six. That's the valley, still the same.