For the next two weeks, I made myself familiar with Beecher Falls.
I began writing letters to my father and mother and; of course, Samantha. I seemed to have "struck a cord" with the locals. Everyone was friendly, nice, willing to give you the shirt off their back, and just genuinely interested in helping if they could lend a hand.
I even met the Mayor and local politicians on the town council. Beecher Falls may have been small, but the people there were a tight-knit group. The Coors brewing company at one time had a small brewing operation in Beecher Falls, but it was now gone. Since I was so close to New Hampshire, I found a local pub to frequent.
The Rainbow Grille and Tavern became a place that I would visit for lunch and dinner and I also found respite in the Outback Pub. The locals were friendly, and typically I spent less than twenty bucks for a nite out. Friendly enough that if the bar was not to full, a round of drinks would be purchased by one of the locals.
I decided on the Friday before I would start work at the Balsams to go over into Canada. I had been smart enough to get my passport before beginning my journey, knowing that I would be so close to the Canadian border.
Friday morning I drove over into Canada and saw Niagara Falls. I did the short tour and went under the falls even though the weather was nearly unbearable.Icicles hung from the falls in gargantuan proportions. It was beautiful, but I was thankful to have my North Face jacket and a toboggan on.
I decided I would spend a few days in Canada. It would be a world away from Beecher Falls, but I knew I would find something to complete my journey into the unknown on these two days.
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Now when I say that Beecher Falls is a small town, I mean it is a SMALL TOWN. Smaller than Frostburg even when the college is not in session, Beecher Falls has a population of less than two-hundred fifty.
I began to wonder why this place on the map is where I would land next...
I decided nonetheless to make the most of it. Undoubtedly, this place had something to offer even if it was just for a day, a week, or a month. I had wanted a respite, and I felt sure I would get it.
To my surprise, I found a "diamond in the rough." I would go to work at The Balsams, a Grand Resort and Hotel in Beecher Falls, Vermont. At the very moment that I arrived, they were doing some renovations and were in need of a food and beverage director. Since I had a background in food science, brewing, distilling and the like, I was a "shoe-in." They hired me on the spot.
I would begin in two weeks. Since I had some time on my hands, I thought I would take the two weeks to explore the town and possibly the neighboring states and Canada. Surely there would be little diners to visit, places to hike and bike, a neighboring ski resort and other places of interest.
If it was out there, I would find it. It was time to lay out a plan of relaxation and rejuvenation for the next two weeks.
I began to wonder why this place on the map is where I would land next...
I decided nonetheless to make the most of it. Undoubtedly, this place had something to offer even if it was just for a day, a week, or a month. I had wanted a respite, and I felt sure I would get it.
To my surprise, I found a "diamond in the rough." I would go to work at The Balsams, a Grand Resort and Hotel in Beecher Falls, Vermont. At the very moment that I arrived, they were doing some renovations and were in need of a food and beverage director. Since I had a background in food science, brewing, distilling and the like, I was a "shoe-in." They hired me on the spot.
I would begin in two weeks. Since I had some time on my hands, I thought I would take the two weeks to explore the town and possibly the neighboring states and Canada. Surely there would be little diners to visit, places to hike and bike, a neighboring ski resort and other places of interest.
If it was out there, I would find it. It was time to lay out a plan of relaxation and rejuvenation for the next two weeks.
Monday, October 13, 2014
I returned to Randolph and turned in my two-week notice. It was time to move on!
Samantha agreed that I had done what I came to do in Randolph. We were stronger than ever and I could see from her too, that she believed it was time for me to open a new chapter in Vermont. The brewery would be sad to see me go and I promised to keep in touch with a few students at Vermont Tech, but we all know how that goes.
On Wednesday nite, Samantha and I poured over the map of Vermont. At this particular time, I was looking for an oasis. Not necessarily somewhere where I had to be productive, but rather somewhere where I could commune with nature. I needed a respite; a place to collect my thoughts. I decided on Beecher Falls,Vermont. Located in the clear northeast corner of Vermont, this small town would be my hideaway for the next undisclosed period of time.
I got in the Jetta on Saturday morning and began driving. It was only a little over a two-hour drive; well, maybe closer to three with pit stops, but I made it into town around noon. Named after a manufacturing company in the 1880's that took advantage of the falls for for the mill, I knew immediately that this place had history. The question was, "What was history going to teach me here in Beecher Falls?"
I was also located just south of the Canadian Border. While my "wrestling match" was with myself and Vermont, I felt sure that there was something across the border that deserved my attention as well. I had made good money at the brewery to add to my savings, so I decided to splurge my first day in Essex County. I booked a two-nite stay at The Essex. Here I would have all the amenities I needed for a few days to relax and clear my head.
By 3:00 I had booked a massage and dinner would be at 7:00. Sunday morning I would sleep in, and in the afternoon I would make my plans for my respite in Beecher Falls.
Samantha agreed that I had done what I came to do in Randolph. We were stronger than ever and I could see from her too, that she believed it was time for me to open a new chapter in Vermont. The brewery would be sad to see me go and I promised to keep in touch with a few students at Vermont Tech, but we all know how that goes.
On Wednesday nite, Samantha and I poured over the map of Vermont. At this particular time, I was looking for an oasis. Not necessarily somewhere where I had to be productive, but rather somewhere where I could commune with nature. I needed a respite; a place to collect my thoughts. I decided on Beecher Falls,Vermont. Located in the clear northeast corner of Vermont, this small town would be my hideaway for the next undisclosed period of time.
I got in the Jetta on Saturday morning and began driving. It was only a little over a two-hour drive; well, maybe closer to three with pit stops, but I made it into town around noon. Named after a manufacturing company in the 1880's that took advantage of the falls for for the mill, I knew immediately that this place had history. The question was, "What was history going to teach me here in Beecher Falls?"
I was also located just south of the Canadian Border. While my "wrestling match" was with myself and Vermont, I felt sure that there was something across the border that deserved my attention as well. I had made good money at the brewery to add to my savings, so I decided to splurge my first day in Essex County. I booked a two-nite stay at The Essex. Here I would have all the amenities I needed for a few days to relax and clear my head.
By 3:00 I had booked a massage and dinner would be at 7:00. Sunday morning I would sleep in, and in the afternoon I would make my plans for my respite in Beecher Falls.
Saturday, October 11, 2014
Samantha and I awoke before sunrise on Sunday. The plan was to wake up slowly, go to church, eat lunch with my parents and then head north.
We had our first cup of Starbucks around 6:30 AM. Sunrise was at 7:22 AM and from my father's house, we watched the sun come up over the horizon together that morning. It was cold, and the steam rolled from our coffee cups and we could see each others breath as we made plans for the day.
It was cold in Frostburg; just fourteen degrees that morning. Not atypical for this time of year, but unpleasant at times.
We got ourselves showered and started to make breakfast for Mom and Dad. We had brought with us some Vermont Maple syrup that I knew they would enjoy. After some French toast we made plans all together for the day. Church would be first on the agenda and we all went to the largest, yet small, Catholic church in Frostburg; next to the Tombstone cafe.
After church, we decided to drive a few minutes down the road for some lunch at D'Atri's. Their specialty was steak subs as they had perfected a seasoned lettuce that appealed to everyone in town.
At about 2:00 PM, we headed for Boston and Vermont. It was almost time to move on. I knew this in my heart!
We had our first cup of Starbucks around 6:30 AM. Sunrise was at 7:22 AM and from my father's house, we watched the sun come up over the horizon together that morning. It was cold, and the steam rolled from our coffee cups and we could see each others breath as we made plans for the day.
It was cold in Frostburg; just fourteen degrees that morning. Not atypical for this time of year, but unpleasant at times.
We got ourselves showered and started to make breakfast for Mom and Dad. We had brought with us some Vermont Maple syrup that I knew they would enjoy. After some French toast we made plans all together for the day. Church would be first on the agenda and we all went to the largest, yet small, Catholic church in Frostburg; next to the Tombstone cafe.
After church, we decided to drive a few minutes down the road for some lunch at D'Atri's. Their specialty was steak subs as they had perfected a seasoned lettuce that appealed to everyone in town.
At about 2:00 PM, we headed for Boston and Vermont. It was almost time to move on. I knew this in my heart!
Thursday, October 9, 2014
My parents, Samantha and I went to dinner at Guiseppe's Italian Restaurant. A Frostburg favourite for years, it was a nice place to have a good Italian meal in style; for our little town at least. They did have a decent wine selection and the owner always kept a few special bottles in the library for his more common patrons.
We each decided to have the special that evening, which was an Eggplant Parmesan. Perfectly cooked, our mouths and eyes dazzled with every bite. After dinner, I took Samantha over to the local college, Frostburg State University. It is where I started attending, and quite possibly where I would finish; but I would have to err on the side of biology or chemistry as food science or any sort of agricultural science was not available. I could; however, take some independent study in plant biology thru a sister school.
While I intended to show her the entire campus, there was another item to cross off the list that evening. "The Three Irish Tenors" were in town, and that would be an evening of music not to miss, at only seven dollars per tickets. So after a short stroll around campus, I seated her in the auditorium and made her not look around at the posters on the way in to see the featured entertainment.
The music was amazing. These guys could put on a show. The "high" tenor hit notes that only most men could dream of, and only men like Pavarotti had ever achieved. We enjoyed every song...especially "Ave Maria."
On the way home, Samantha stated she was totally impressed. The culture, vibe and beauty of this little town had caught her heart. And while we would most likely never live here together, she additionally stated that tomorrow morning would come too soon...she longed to return to Frostburg.
We each decided to have the special that evening, which was an Eggplant Parmesan. Perfectly cooked, our mouths and eyes dazzled with every bite. After dinner, I took Samantha over to the local college, Frostburg State University. It is where I started attending, and quite possibly where I would finish; but I would have to err on the side of biology or chemistry as food science or any sort of agricultural science was not available. I could; however, take some independent study in plant biology thru a sister school.
While I intended to show her the entire campus, there was another item to cross off the list that evening. "The Three Irish Tenors" were in town, and that would be an evening of music not to miss, at only seven dollars per tickets. So after a short stroll around campus, I seated her in the auditorium and made her not look around at the posters on the way in to see the featured entertainment.
The music was amazing. These guys could put on a show. The "high" tenor hit notes that only most men could dream of, and only men like Pavarotti had ever achieved. We enjoyed every song...especially "Ave Maria."
On the way home, Samantha stated she was totally impressed. The culture, vibe and beauty of this little town had caught her heart. And while we would most likely never live here together, she additionally stated that tomorrow morning would come too soon...she longed to return to Frostburg.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
On Saturday, we had breakfast at one of my favourite diners in town. The Princess Restaurant has been family-owned for decades. The decor screams 1950's when you enter with red-swivel bar seats and booths with what appear to be wooden radios that one can tune in to his or her favourite station. But it was the breakfast I had brought Samantha for; and while again simple, she was impressed.
We walked across the street to Main Street Books after getting a coffee; also across the street, at the Tombstone Cafe. The cafe is refurbished from a building that used to be where you went and purchased a tombstone in remembrance of a loved one. There was enough space in the building that you could have even watched them carve and inscribe it. I like it better as a cafe, and the building still sits next to a church and in front of the cemetery. How is that for history?
At the bookstore, we both looked for something interesting to read. We had both been tired of reading only formulas and scientific "mumbo-jumbo", so we opted for something lite and airy. When we had both found a book, it was time for a stroll down the street. Since it was now 1:00 PM; after a late 11:00 AM start to breakfast, I took her to meet Jimmy.
Jimmy was a lawyer and now is a bar owner. The Monkey Bar is a place you might never find if you did not know Jimmy. A bachelor since "Day 1", Jimmy always has a good story or two to tell. On this particular day, we sat and had a few laughs and stories over a beer, (or three), while watching the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame play Boston College. While Samantha looked Irish, we were definitely rooting on opposite sides with Jimmy; as we had to side with Boston College. Boston College managed to win 42-30 in an all-out "death match".
After a few drinks, we decided to go home for a nap before dinner. Samantha was a little bit tired from the walking and a little tipsy from the beer. A nap would be just what we needed before dinner.
We walked across the street to Main Street Books after getting a coffee; also across the street, at the Tombstone Cafe. The cafe is refurbished from a building that used to be where you went and purchased a tombstone in remembrance of a loved one. There was enough space in the building that you could have even watched them carve and inscribe it. I like it better as a cafe, and the building still sits next to a church and in front of the cemetery. How is that for history?
At the bookstore, we both looked for something interesting to read. We had both been tired of reading only formulas and scientific "mumbo-jumbo", so we opted for something lite and airy. When we had both found a book, it was time for a stroll down the street. Since it was now 1:00 PM; after a late 11:00 AM start to breakfast, I took her to meet Jimmy.
Jimmy was a lawyer and now is a bar owner. The Monkey Bar is a place you might never find if you did not know Jimmy. A bachelor since "Day 1", Jimmy always has a good story or two to tell. On this particular day, we sat and had a few laughs and stories over a beer, (or three), while watching the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame play Boston College. While Samantha looked Irish, we were definitely rooting on opposite sides with Jimmy; as we had to side with Boston College. Boston College managed to win 42-30 in an all-out "death match".
After a few drinks, we decided to go home for a nap before dinner. Samantha was a little bit tired from the walking and a little tipsy from the beer. A nap would be just what we needed before dinner.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
The following week we would spend at my parents.
Things were still "hummin' along" at the brewery and Vermont Tech. It was perhaps time to move on, but I was learning more and more each day. I would give it a few weeks more; or perhaps a month and reevaluate. Samantha was happy with my employment at the brewery and I was getting paid well. At this point, not only had I paid back the line of credit, but I was in the black in my checking account.
Samantha was hard at work at college in Boston. She was excited to meet my parents and at the same time very nervous. I told her she needn't be, but you know how women are. They; at times, want things to be perfect and follow a straight line.
My work week went by quickly and I began my journey to home. Samantha and I drove together, so we had "windshield time" in order to build and strengthen our relationship. The drive was long and arduous in reality, but spending time with Samantha made it palatable. We stopped every hour or so to have a short rest and get some refreshments.
Upon arriving, my parents had a sign at the front door. A banner hung over the door which stated, "Welcome Home, Son and Samantha." It made me feel not only welcome, but loved. They fell in love with Samantha immediately. My father was able to tell from "Day 1 concerning our conversations that Samantha was a perfect fit for me. And during my time to "find myself", she had been a beacon of light; a lighthouse, and an anchor of sorts.
We had a family dinner that Friday night at home. Mom fixed London Broil, a salad, and my favourite; macaroni and cheese. Once again, a simple meal for simple people. I would have the opportunity over the next forty-eight hours to show Samantha my town. While small, she would be impressed. It was not the city she was used to, and she immediately appreciated the beauty of a small town. It had much to offer, and she soaked it up like the rays on a hot summer day.
Things were still "hummin' along" at the brewery and Vermont Tech. It was perhaps time to move on, but I was learning more and more each day. I would give it a few weeks more; or perhaps a month and reevaluate. Samantha was happy with my employment at the brewery and I was getting paid well. At this point, not only had I paid back the line of credit, but I was in the black in my checking account.
Samantha was hard at work at college in Boston. She was excited to meet my parents and at the same time very nervous. I told her she needn't be, but you know how women are. They; at times, want things to be perfect and follow a straight line.
My work week went by quickly and I began my journey to home. Samantha and I drove together, so we had "windshield time" in order to build and strengthen our relationship. The drive was long and arduous in reality, but spending time with Samantha made it palatable. We stopped every hour or so to have a short rest and get some refreshments.
Upon arriving, my parents had a sign at the front door. A banner hung over the door which stated, "Welcome Home, Son and Samantha." It made me feel not only welcome, but loved. They fell in love with Samantha immediately. My father was able to tell from "Day 1 concerning our conversations that Samantha was a perfect fit for me. And during my time to "find myself", she had been a beacon of light; a lighthouse, and an anchor of sorts.
We had a family dinner that Friday night at home. Mom fixed London Broil, a salad, and my favourite; macaroni and cheese. Once again, a simple meal for simple people. I would have the opportunity over the next forty-eight hours to show Samantha my town. While small, she would be impressed. It was not the city she was used to, and she immediately appreciated the beauty of a small town. It had much to offer, and she soaked it up like the rays on a hot summer day.
We arrived at Samantha's home around 10:00 AM.
Well rested from our evening at the Alexander Hamilton house, and a little "hopped up" from the extra shots at Starbucks, it was time to settle in and settle down for the day. Samantha's mother was already cooking lunch and she would cook dinner that evening as well. She had baked a turkey all day on Saturday, so some simple turkey sandwiches with lettuce, tomato and spicy brown mustard for lunch fit the bill.
Her father and I watched football that afternoon. An avid New England Patriots fan, we watched them handily beat the Giants in a full-on, all-out brawl that afternoon. Tom Brady was at that time the best quarterback in professional football, and will be remembered as one of the greats, I feel sure.
While dinner would also be simple, there was no way it could compare to the last two evening dinners we had...but it didn't have to. A simple meal, for simple people; in love. As we gazed at each other across the table, I also glanced at Samantha's mother and father. They, too, could see the burning passion that was flowing from us. This was surely a relationship that was meant to last.
It was time for me to head back to Randolph. I had stayed as long as I felt I could; till around 7:00 PM, and that would put me back in Vermont by 10:00 PM.
Morning came early the following day. I was back on my schedule at Bent Hill Brewery, ready and prepared for work at 5:45 AM. Samantha had made it back to Boston, and for some reason was up early that day; as she had sent me an "I Love You" text message that morning. I was in love. In love with an Irish girl from New York, living in Boston.
Things could not be better, or could they be...I wondered.
Well rested from our evening at the Alexander Hamilton house, and a little "hopped up" from the extra shots at Starbucks, it was time to settle in and settle down for the day. Samantha's mother was already cooking lunch and she would cook dinner that evening as well. She had baked a turkey all day on Saturday, so some simple turkey sandwiches with lettuce, tomato and spicy brown mustard for lunch fit the bill.
Her father and I watched football that afternoon. An avid New England Patriots fan, we watched them handily beat the Giants in a full-on, all-out brawl that afternoon. Tom Brady was at that time the best quarterback in professional football, and will be remembered as one of the greats, I feel sure.
While dinner would also be simple, there was no way it could compare to the last two evening dinners we had...but it didn't have to. A simple meal, for simple people; in love. As we gazed at each other across the table, I also glanced at Samantha's mother and father. They, too, could see the burning passion that was flowing from us. This was surely a relationship that was meant to last.
It was time for me to head back to Randolph. I had stayed as long as I felt I could; till around 7:00 PM, and that would put me back in Vermont by 10:00 PM.
Morning came early the following day. I was back on my schedule at Bent Hill Brewery, ready and prepared for work at 5:45 AM. Samantha had made it back to Boston, and for some reason was up early that day; as she had sent me an "I Love You" text message that morning. I was in love. In love with an Irish girl from New York, living in Boston.
Things could not be better, or could they be...I wondered.
Monday, October 6, 2014
I slept on my thoughts of where to go the following day, and decided on the Hudson Valley. I wanted her to experience some of what the area had to offer, as I had for few days while gaining the title of Level I Sommelier.
While I was not being presumptuous, I had take the liberty of booking us a Bed & Breakfast at the Alexander Hamilton House. Lunch would be held at the Gaucho Grill Restaurant and dinner at The Bocuse Restaurant. Between lunch and dinner, we would go hiking...so in the end, I was able to incorporate a couple of my ideas.
The Hudson River Valley has a treasure trove of hiking. I had done some quick research on hiking in the area and found that there were more than fifty trails (and counting) in the valley. I wanted to take Samantha to a special place. That place would be VerKeerderkill Falls. The hike would take us several hours to navigate the terrain and also to reach our destination. The pain would be worth the gain.
As we each gazed at the blazing water shooting downward from above, we also gazed in the eyes of one another. The analogy of the gazing between the beauty of the falls and the beauty of our gaze of love for one another was otherworldly; in a literal sense.
Once returning from the falls, it was time to go to Bocuse. Dinner would be one of the best dinners that I had in my life. In addition to the one we had at Costata last evening, I had had two impressive meals in the matter of thirty-six hours. Our evening at the Alexander Hamilton House would be amazing; and would turn the day into a beautiful nite; and incredible Saturday.
We had breakfast the following morning at Starbucks. A simple chocolate croissant and a coffee, but we were both smiling from the day and nite before. We took our time getting back to Samantha's home, as we wanted to relive; and live, in the moment.
While I was not being presumptuous, I had take the liberty of booking us a Bed & Breakfast at the Alexander Hamilton House. Lunch would be held at the Gaucho Grill Restaurant and dinner at The Bocuse Restaurant. Between lunch and dinner, we would go hiking...so in the end, I was able to incorporate a couple of my ideas.
The Hudson River Valley has a treasure trove of hiking. I had done some quick research on hiking in the area and found that there were more than fifty trails (and counting) in the valley. I wanted to take Samantha to a special place. That place would be VerKeerderkill Falls. The hike would take us several hours to navigate the terrain and also to reach our destination. The pain would be worth the gain.
As we each gazed at the blazing water shooting downward from above, we also gazed in the eyes of one another. The analogy of the gazing between the beauty of the falls and the beauty of our gaze of love for one another was otherworldly; in a literal sense.
Once returning from the falls, it was time to go to Bocuse. Dinner would be one of the best dinners that I had in my life. In addition to the one we had at Costata last evening, I had had two impressive meals in the matter of thirty-six hours. Our evening at the Alexander Hamilton House would be amazing; and would turn the day into a beautiful nite; and incredible Saturday.
We had breakfast the following morning at Starbucks. A simple chocolate croissant and a coffee, but we were both smiling from the day and nite before. We took our time getting back to Samantha's home, as we wanted to relive; and live, in the moment.
That weekend with Samantha was perfect.
We had reservations booked at a trendy New York City steakhouse, Costata. Chef Michael White was doing some amazing things with some amazing cuts of steak, and I could just feel the steak and the wine in my mouth as I salivated over the menu.
Samantha and I had the same thing...Quail Saltimbocca for an appetizer and a Boneless Ribeye. I debated on Colorado Lamb Chops, but they were to be had at a later juncture. If I had anything to say about the evening, Samantha and I would be returning to this locale.
The wine, beer and cocktail list was an impressive eight pages. I couldn't believe my eyes as I scoured over the list. I was not going to be able to spend such an evening in a similar fashion in my home town, so I would have to show her the beauty of a small town at my home. It was certainly nothing like NYC. I started with a Pinot Noir named "The Pip", moved on to a bottle of Barberesco from Piedmont, and then finished with an Old Fashioned. A "Top Flight" of my own creation to say the least.
The marbling of the steak along with the Barberesco from Gaja was simply amazing! Bon Appetite!
After dinner, Samantha and I stayed in the city. We went to a trendy niteclub nearby and danced the nite away. We promised to be home by midnight, via the train. It was an amazing evening that I will never forget.
As we danced, I thought of things that I might like to do with Samantha the following day. Since we were close to NYC, I thought about a picnic lunch, or a hike with lunch. We could always go biking along a wine trail up the Finger Lakes, or perhaps even up to the Hudson Valley where I had done my introductory course. I thought for a while, and decided I would sleep on it.
We had reservations booked at a trendy New York City steakhouse, Costata. Chef Michael White was doing some amazing things with some amazing cuts of steak, and I could just feel the steak and the wine in my mouth as I salivated over the menu.
Samantha and I had the same thing...Quail Saltimbocca for an appetizer and a Boneless Ribeye. I debated on Colorado Lamb Chops, but they were to be had at a later juncture. If I had anything to say about the evening, Samantha and I would be returning to this locale.
The wine, beer and cocktail list was an impressive eight pages. I couldn't believe my eyes as I scoured over the list. I was not going to be able to spend such an evening in a similar fashion in my home town, so I would have to show her the beauty of a small town at my home. It was certainly nothing like NYC. I started with a Pinot Noir named "The Pip", moved on to a bottle of Barberesco from Piedmont, and then finished with an Old Fashioned. A "Top Flight" of my own creation to say the least.
The marbling of the steak along with the Barberesco from Gaja was simply amazing! Bon Appetite!
After dinner, Samantha and I stayed in the city. We went to a trendy niteclub nearby and danced the nite away. We promised to be home by midnight, via the train. It was an amazing evening that I will never forget.
As we danced, I thought of things that I might like to do with Samantha the following day. Since we were close to NYC, I thought about a picnic lunch, or a hike with lunch. We could always go biking along a wine trail up the Finger Lakes, or perhaps even up to the Hudson Valley where I had done my introductory course. I thought for a while, and decided I would sleep on it.
We hit the slopes around 9:00 AM. We had a lazy morning after breakfast; and since it was Sunday, I decided that the entire day would be taken at a slow pace and simply be relaxing. We each were ecstatic about our new status as "engaged" persons.
I phoned my dad around 10:00 AM, at the exact point on top of the mountain where I had proposed. Samantha phoned her mother, and it seemed like both families were "happy campers."
I knew I would have to leave for Randolph in the early afternoon, as I wanted to be rested and for Samantha to be as well as we returned to our duties as students and "worker bees". I was continuing to learn about craft beer making by the day. The theory I would apply much later in my career.
Around 2:00 PM, we decided to pull up stakes. We showered in the lodge at Stowe, and met at the car. We were each sad to see the other go, as it would be too long; no matter the time frame, till we saw each other again now that we were engaged. Seeing each other every two weeks would no longer "cut the mustard." We set a time over the next two weekends to spend a weekend at my parents and the other at hers...hers first.
The week at the brewery was long and I was excited to return to her parents home. It seemed like forever since I had been there, and it had really not been that long in the grand scheme of things. Her father greeted me with a warmth that I had never felt. Even from the feel of is handshake upon my arrival to his home, I could tell that I was "in like flint."
Samantha's father had made reservations at a nice restaurant in town to take us to on Friday nite. Saturday would be our time, and Sunday, family time. I was excited to see a different side of Samantha's family, and even more excited to share with her, mine.
I phoned my dad around 10:00 AM, at the exact point on top of the mountain where I had proposed. Samantha phoned her mother, and it seemed like both families were "happy campers."
I knew I would have to leave for Randolph in the early afternoon, as I wanted to be rested and for Samantha to be as well as we returned to our duties as students and "worker bees". I was continuing to learn about craft beer making by the day. The theory I would apply much later in my career.
Around 2:00 PM, we decided to pull up stakes. We showered in the lodge at Stowe, and met at the car. We were each sad to see the other go, as it would be too long; no matter the time frame, till we saw each other again now that we were engaged. Seeing each other every two weeks would no longer "cut the mustard." We set a time over the next two weekends to spend a weekend at my parents and the other at hers...hers first.
The week at the brewery was long and I was excited to return to her parents home. It seemed like forever since I had been there, and it had really not been that long in the grand scheme of things. Her father greeted me with a warmth that I had never felt. Even from the feel of is handshake upon my arrival to his home, I could tell that I was "in like flint."
Samantha's father had made reservations at a nice restaurant in town to take us to on Friday nite. Saturday would be our time, and Sunday, family time. I was excited to see a different side of Samantha's family, and even more excited to share with her, mine.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Due to the inclement weather and the progress that we had made on two seasonal brews, I was given Friday and Saturday off.
I decided to go to Stowe. Most of the snowfall had finished and Samantha drove up from Boston. We rented a cabin and skied heavily that weekend. I could see something different in Samantha's eyes. She was maturing by the day it seemed into a beautiful Irish woman.
Up at the top of the slopes, I made a proposal; literally. I had gone to Zayas Jewelers and purchased a small diamond in an antique setting. It was actually an antique piece that someone had upgraded to another setting. I was able to get a 1 and 1/4 carat diamond in an antique setting for under $3000. At the top of the mountain, I expressed my desire for Samantha to be my wife.
She excitedly accepted, and we talked all weekend about an appropriate date. I proposed that we have a fall wedding in either this fall or the following. The following was probably going to work out better as I was committed to Chateau Montelena for a harvest season. Even the following summer would work if we didn't want to wait, but fall was each of our favourite seasons.
We laid by the fire that evening and talked about honeymoon destinations. Since we both liked winter and winter sports, we talked about the Swiss Alps, Whistler, Canada, and other remote places for a winter destination. I had never been to Switzerland, or even Europe for that matter, but a trip abroad seemed appropriate.
As the flames burned with crackling and popping, we talked until the "wee hours" of the morning. We would sleep in front of the fireplace, as we had done so many times. At dusk, I took a short car ride to the grocery store. I got some eggs, bacon, milk, and English muffins. I made coffee and breakfast and woke Samantha up around 6:45 AM. It was Sunday, and I was ready to hit the slopes with her again to reconvene and remember the exact place where I had proposed the nite before.
As she gazed in my eyes over a sip of coffee; I could tell that she was burning with a desire to marry me. And at that very moment, it was the only thing that mattered.
I decided to go to Stowe. Most of the snowfall had finished and Samantha drove up from Boston. We rented a cabin and skied heavily that weekend. I could see something different in Samantha's eyes. She was maturing by the day it seemed into a beautiful Irish woman.
Up at the top of the slopes, I made a proposal; literally. I had gone to Zayas Jewelers and purchased a small diamond in an antique setting. It was actually an antique piece that someone had upgraded to another setting. I was able to get a 1 and 1/4 carat diamond in an antique setting for under $3000. At the top of the mountain, I expressed my desire for Samantha to be my wife.
She excitedly accepted, and we talked all weekend about an appropriate date. I proposed that we have a fall wedding in either this fall or the following. The following was probably going to work out better as I was committed to Chateau Montelena for a harvest season. Even the following summer would work if we didn't want to wait, but fall was each of our favourite seasons.
We laid by the fire that evening and talked about honeymoon destinations. Since we both liked winter and winter sports, we talked about the Swiss Alps, Whistler, Canada, and other remote places for a winter destination. I had never been to Switzerland, or even Europe for that matter, but a trip abroad seemed appropriate.
As the flames burned with crackling and popping, we talked until the "wee hours" of the morning. We would sleep in front of the fireplace, as we had done so many times. At dusk, I took a short car ride to the grocery store. I got some eggs, bacon, milk, and English muffins. I made coffee and breakfast and woke Samantha up around 6:45 AM. It was Sunday, and I was ready to hit the slopes with her again to reconvene and remember the exact place where I had proposed the nite before.
As she gazed in my eyes over a sip of coffee; I could tell that she was burning with a desire to marry me. And at that very moment, it was the only thing that mattered.
The next week was a rough one.
The weather was calling for three feet of snow at a minimum and as much as seven. El Nino was going to grace us with his presence and additionally a cold front coming off of the Great lakes was coming in conjunction. I phoned Samantha and told her to stay in Boston. Even they were supposed to get at a minimum, two feet.
The temperatures were also low. I found myself on Monday morning shoveling out the driveway at the cabin. There was already eighteen inches behind my car at 5:45 AM. It had been snowing at a steady clip all evening.
On my break at 10:00 AM, I called Samantha to see what the weather was like there. She was still aiming to come to Vermont as in Boston, the schools were already closed until Wednesday. I cautioned her to stay however, and enjoy a few days off with her friends.
I made it into to work each day, donning coveralls each morning. I had been smart enough to buy some decent work boots and some coveralls to allow me to work more comfortably in the barrel room. And of course, each nite I would spend time in the chemistry or biology lab at Vermont Tech.
Since our hiccup; better known as Abigail, we had not skipped a beat. Abigail never returned; and if she did, I was in a different locale in Vermont anyway. I didn't miss her, but I suppose I would call the experience intriguing. Perhaps it was part of the greater plan. As I matured over the winter, I spent many a moment in reflection. Especially while working at Bent Hill, I spent time in constant reflection. It was not that the work was menial and dull, rather that it was a consistent process which allowed time for my own thoughts to enter.
I thought of Samantha, my family and my own journey. I had come to realize that nothing happens by coincidence; rather, that everything happens for a reason. And while I was still figuring out those reason daily, all was well in the world at this very moment.
The snow fell and fell, and day by day the amount grew.
The weather was calling for three feet of snow at a minimum and as much as seven. El Nino was going to grace us with his presence and additionally a cold front coming off of the Great lakes was coming in conjunction. I phoned Samantha and told her to stay in Boston. Even they were supposed to get at a minimum, two feet.
The temperatures were also low. I found myself on Monday morning shoveling out the driveway at the cabin. There was already eighteen inches behind my car at 5:45 AM. It had been snowing at a steady clip all evening.
On my break at 10:00 AM, I called Samantha to see what the weather was like there. She was still aiming to come to Vermont as in Boston, the schools were already closed until Wednesday. I cautioned her to stay however, and enjoy a few days off with her friends.
I made it into to work each day, donning coveralls each morning. I had been smart enough to buy some decent work boots and some coveralls to allow me to work more comfortably in the barrel room. And of course, each nite I would spend time in the chemistry or biology lab at Vermont Tech.
Since our hiccup; better known as Abigail, we had not skipped a beat. Abigail never returned; and if she did, I was in a different locale in Vermont anyway. I didn't miss her, but I suppose I would call the experience intriguing. Perhaps it was part of the greater plan. As I matured over the winter, I spent many a moment in reflection. Especially while working at Bent Hill, I spent time in constant reflection. It was not that the work was menial and dull, rather that it was a consistent process which allowed time for my own thoughts to enter.
I thought of Samantha, my family and my own journey. I had come to realize that nothing happens by coincidence; rather, that everything happens for a reason. And while I was still figuring out those reason daily, all was well in the world at this very moment.
The snow fell and fell, and day by day the amount grew.
Saturday, October 4, 2014
One of my teachers at the University of Vermont has posed a question
to the class. Dr. Horton Tracy had said there was one question that you
could always ask to get an answer to any question. He called it a
"WITDB" question. The question you ask is, "What is the difference
between?" When applying any two concepts, things or variable; you can
begin to see the comparable properties and the differences between the
two subjects or subject matters.
This question has carried me thru some of the difficulties and even the small things in life. I give him full credit, and have always and will always use this simple, but powerful principle.
Craft Distilling and Craft Brewing have some similarities, but also have some stark differences. For instance, there is the principle(s) of both microbrewing and microdistillery. This is don on a small scale with small batches of your substance of choice. The aging process and how the liquor and beer respectively ferments and ages is quite different. Barrels vs. Copper pots (usually).
Despite the differences, it was the theory of the two concepts that would begin to help me; mostly at the brewery, but would carry me throughout my career.
I was excited with what I was learning and Samantha and I had gotten back on our schedule of Wednesday and Saturday phone calls. We had also established a new plan; along with our renewed relationship, to see each other more often. We would take turns driving to Boston and her Randolph, every other week, until we were tired of doing so. I had been fortunate enough to find another lodge with a fireplace for us to lay by in the nite, so I knew we would be spending a large portion of our time there.
Another similarity between the two of us, is that we both liked to cook. She had not the greatest of set-ups at the school, so we did most of the cooking when together at my place. We learned to think like each other in the kitchen. The "right hand" seemed to know what the "left hand" was doing, so to speak. For some reason, we both were fond of Cajun and Dry-Rub Memphis Barbeque. Many a time, we would cook one or the other over the next few months.
This question has carried me thru some of the difficulties and even the small things in life. I give him full credit, and have always and will always use this simple, but powerful principle.
Craft Distilling and Craft Brewing have some similarities, but also have some stark differences. For instance, there is the principle(s) of both microbrewing and microdistillery. This is don on a small scale with small batches of your substance of choice. The aging process and how the liquor and beer respectively ferments and ages is quite different. Barrels vs. Copper pots (usually).
Despite the differences, it was the theory of the two concepts that would begin to help me; mostly at the brewery, but would carry me throughout my career.
I was excited with what I was learning and Samantha and I had gotten back on our schedule of Wednesday and Saturday phone calls. We had also established a new plan; along with our renewed relationship, to see each other more often. We would take turns driving to Boston and her Randolph, every other week, until we were tired of doing so. I had been fortunate enough to find another lodge with a fireplace for us to lay by in the nite, so I knew we would be spending a large portion of our time there.
Another similarity between the two of us, is that we both liked to cook. She had not the greatest of set-ups at the school, so we did most of the cooking when together at my place. We learned to think like each other in the kitchen. The "right hand" seemed to know what the "left hand" was doing, so to speak. For some reason, we both were fond of Cajun and Dry-Rub Memphis Barbeque. Many a time, we would cook one or the other over the next few months.
Friday, October 3, 2014
With my relationship with Samantha restored and the fire rekindled, I was ready to make waves in Randolph.
I reported for my first shift at Bent Hill Brewery early at 5:45 AM that next Monday morning. I was excited to see what I could learn, as this would be a longer stint than the gig at the wine bar. Their equipment was amazing. Five tanks that held over 1,000 gallons of freshly brewed nectar from the Gods. I do believe it was Benjamin Franklin who uttered, "Beer is proof that there is a God". I would have to agree.
At Bent Hill, they used wood chip aging, but not just any wood. They used chestnut that ave each brew a unique flavor. An almost vanilla smokiness was the result. Each morning I began by sweeping the floor. At 10:00 AM, we would use a beer flute to take samples from barrels. The taste was a little different each day, as it should be. By noon, it was time for a bite of lunch, and there was more work to do each afternoon which included added yeast and sugar, and removing the old and adding new wood chips each day.
At Vermont Tech, I learned the theory behind the practice that I was using at the brewery each day. I thought of Samantha often as I did the most menial tasks. I thought about my own religion as I thought about the quote from Benjamin Franklin. "Where was I with respect to religion in my life", I pondered? This; however, was an evolving process, just as the process continued for finding myself.
The first week was successful. The teachers at Vermont Tech allowed me to monitor classes and participate in the chemistry and biology labs, despite the fact that I could not pay for the instruction. I had persuaded them due to the nature of my journey, and they kindly allowed me the ability to join the class. Bent Hill was happy to have me on board and felt that I had promise due to my experience in the wine world and also my knowledge, skills and abilities with respect to craft brewing.
Once again, all was right with the world. I phoned Samantha on Saturday to tell her about my week.
I reported for my first shift at Bent Hill Brewery early at 5:45 AM that next Monday morning. I was excited to see what I could learn, as this would be a longer stint than the gig at the wine bar. Their equipment was amazing. Five tanks that held over 1,000 gallons of freshly brewed nectar from the Gods. I do believe it was Benjamin Franklin who uttered, "Beer is proof that there is a God". I would have to agree.
At Bent Hill, they used wood chip aging, but not just any wood. They used chestnut that ave each brew a unique flavor. An almost vanilla smokiness was the result. Each morning I began by sweeping the floor. At 10:00 AM, we would use a beer flute to take samples from barrels. The taste was a little different each day, as it should be. By noon, it was time for a bite of lunch, and there was more work to do each afternoon which included added yeast and sugar, and removing the old and adding new wood chips each day.
At Vermont Tech, I learned the theory behind the practice that I was using at the brewery each day. I thought of Samantha often as I did the most menial tasks. I thought about my own religion as I thought about the quote from Benjamin Franklin. "Where was I with respect to religion in my life", I pondered? This; however, was an evolving process, just as the process continued for finding myself.
The first week was successful. The teachers at Vermont Tech allowed me to monitor classes and participate in the chemistry and biology labs, despite the fact that I could not pay for the instruction. I had persuaded them due to the nature of my journey, and they kindly allowed me the ability to join the class. Bent Hill was happy to have me on board and felt that I had promise due to my experience in the wine world and also my knowledge, skills and abilities with respect to craft brewing.
Once again, all was right with the world. I phoned Samantha on Saturday to tell her about my week.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
After receiving my letter in the mail, my father called. He had been in situations like mine before where someone had to be told something that a person like myself never wanted to divulge. Without a doubt; if I had decided not to tell, regret would eat away at my mind, heart and soul.
A long conversation, and we each agreed that I had to go "hat in hand" back to Boston to see Samantha. Calling her on the phone to "talk thighs over; or through" just wouldn't do. I decided to make the trip within the next day or so.
Two other pressing issues were to begin to get familiar with the environment and schedule at Vermont Tech, and to find a part-time job. Much to my surprise, I was able to gain an interview at Bent Hill Brewery. They were actually looking currently for an associate brew master, and I had some of the skills and qualifications that they desired. After interviewing with them personally, they called an hour later and offered me the position. "There must be a God", I thought!
Also, in what seemed to be a "perfect storm", Vermont Tech had just finalized the curriculum for two new classes. One in Craft Brewing and the other in Craft Distillery. While I was at no point interested in making Moonshine or Whiskey, I decided that the theory alone would be worth its weight in gold to listen to and gain the instruction. The classes this time would be much more lab oriented, so I knew that I might have to not only pull some strings to get in, but would additionally make for excellent instruction to o hand-in-hand with my part-time position at the brewery.
There was four days before I would start at Bent Hill Brewery. I left early on a Wednesday morning for Boston. I awaited for Samantha as she would exit her class ending at 11:00AM just like last time. When she came down the stairs from the building, she saw me and initially turned and kept on walking. I pleaded to have her stop and chat with me for a bit. Reluctantly, she agreed.
As we sat on a bench near the quad, we talked for over three hours. She had even missed two classes in the interim that day, but I could feel us turning a corner. That day, we not only rectified our differences, but my apologies were accepted and I forgiven. Additionally, we forged a "formal" relationship, as this would have definitely stopped me in my tracks a week ago Monday.
Satisfied with the outcome, I stayed the nite as Samantha had invited me to. We talked about my new opportunities in Randolph; and once again, we were a strong team. Stronger than we had ever been!
A long conversation, and we each agreed that I had to go "hat in hand" back to Boston to see Samantha. Calling her on the phone to "talk thighs over; or through" just wouldn't do. I decided to make the trip within the next day or so.
Two other pressing issues were to begin to get familiar with the environment and schedule at Vermont Tech, and to find a part-time job. Much to my surprise, I was able to gain an interview at Bent Hill Brewery. They were actually looking currently for an associate brew master, and I had some of the skills and qualifications that they desired. After interviewing with them personally, they called an hour later and offered me the position. "There must be a God", I thought!
Also, in what seemed to be a "perfect storm", Vermont Tech had just finalized the curriculum for two new classes. One in Craft Brewing and the other in Craft Distillery. While I was at no point interested in making Moonshine or Whiskey, I decided that the theory alone would be worth its weight in gold to listen to and gain the instruction. The classes this time would be much more lab oriented, so I knew that I might have to not only pull some strings to get in, but would additionally make for excellent instruction to o hand-in-hand with my part-time position at the brewery.
There was four days before I would start at Bent Hill Brewery. I left early on a Wednesday morning for Boston. I awaited for Samantha as she would exit her class ending at 11:00AM just like last time. When she came down the stairs from the building, she saw me and initially turned and kept on walking. I pleaded to have her stop and chat with me for a bit. Reluctantly, she agreed.
As we sat on a bench near the quad, we talked for over three hours. She had even missed two classes in the interim that day, but I could feel us turning a corner. That day, we not only rectified our differences, but my apologies were accepted and I forgiven. Additionally, we forged a "formal" relationship, as this would have definitely stopped me in my tracks a week ago Monday.
Satisfied with the outcome, I stayed the nite as Samantha had invited me to. We talked about my new opportunities in Randolph; and once again, we were a strong team. Stronger than we had ever been!
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Dad,
I am now in Randolph, Vermont, just south of Montpelier. I have found an interesting program and classes to monitor while continuing to develop my skills in wine making and craft beer making. Due to the part-time job that I had in Montpelier, I am in excellent shape with respect to my finances. I was able to pay down $2000 against the line of credit that we established and now once again have $6000 available. I will be looking for work her in Randolph tomorrow.
I have had an interesting week to say the least. During my last few days in Montpelier, I met a woman, Abigail, at the wine bar. She was quite mature compared to me, but we shared plenty of similarities as she recanted the time in her life when she was "finding herself". This attracted me to her; these bits of common ground, and I wound up in her trap at a Bed & Breakfast last Monday nite. It was quite the experience, but I immediately felt remorse on Tuesday morning. I felt as if I had put Samantha in a position to leave my side.
I drove to Boston, as I needed to share with her in person what I had done. While I mentioned that my actions were inexcusable, she still left our morning breakfast in tears. I will call her tomorrow evening, but I feel as if she will not be ready or prepared to answer.
To that end, I need some advice. Should I return to Boston and try to reconcile our differences in the situation in person? I have already broken a piece of her heart, and it seems as if she has done nothing wrong and is not to blame. She has done nothing but support me in my endeavours.
While we were not technically "boyfriend and girlfriend", the lack of the titles and exclusivity matters not.
I need and want her back, and could use you as an advisor.
Best,
Your Son
I am now in Randolph, Vermont, just south of Montpelier. I have found an interesting program and classes to monitor while continuing to develop my skills in wine making and craft beer making. Due to the part-time job that I had in Montpelier, I am in excellent shape with respect to my finances. I was able to pay down $2000 against the line of credit that we established and now once again have $6000 available. I will be looking for work her in Randolph tomorrow.
I have had an interesting week to say the least. During my last few days in Montpelier, I met a woman, Abigail, at the wine bar. She was quite mature compared to me, but we shared plenty of similarities as she recanted the time in her life when she was "finding herself". This attracted me to her; these bits of common ground, and I wound up in her trap at a Bed & Breakfast last Monday nite. It was quite the experience, but I immediately felt remorse on Tuesday morning. I felt as if I had put Samantha in a position to leave my side.
I drove to Boston, as I needed to share with her in person what I had done. While I mentioned that my actions were inexcusable, she still left our morning breakfast in tears. I will call her tomorrow evening, but I feel as if she will not be ready or prepared to answer.
To that end, I need some advice. Should I return to Boston and try to reconcile our differences in the situation in person? I have already broken a piece of her heart, and it seems as if she has done nothing wrong and is not to blame. She has done nothing but support me in my endeavours.
While we were not technically "boyfriend and girlfriend", the lack of the titles and exclusivity matters not.
I need and want her back, and could use you as an advisor.
Best,
Your Son
I decided I would have to tell her in person.
I drove to Boston unannounced leaving at dawn the following Friday morning. The trip was long and the weather fair, but she deserved the truth. I arrived just before 10:00 AM, as the drive was just over three hours. I knew she had a class until 11:00 AM, so I decided to gather my thoughts.
The sad part was that she had been so supportive. How could I have been caught by the "Venus-Fly Trap" and broke our bond. I knew really not how or why I had let the events unfold, but I did. As I waited for her outside the science building; smoking a cigarette to calm my nerves, she saw me and rushed in a lunge toward me with a giant hug. Little did she know that I was about to break her heart in two.
We went downtown to a restaurant for breakfast. It took me a while but I finally broke the news.
I said it in the best lite possible, stating, "Samantha, I want to apologize in advance for what I am about to tell you. I have broken our trust. Not that we have had a formal arrangement in place, but I feel as though we have an incredible bond and you have supported me along this journey to "find myself" from Day 1. That being said, I want you to know that I slept with a woman in Montpelier. I haven't seen her since, as she left like a bad renter in the nite, but it happened. I felt compelled to tell you in person and that is why I am here."
The tears immediately started running down her face and her fork she dropped in mid air and slammed her coffee cup on the table. After a few more tears and regaining some composure, she started, "I too realize we are not an item, but we had something special. I was waiting for you to "find yourself" before entering formal partnership, as I knew not what you wanted to do and neither do you. And now this. And now, I am not so sure. I need some time."
She declined a ride back to the school and instead hailed a cab outside. I paid for breakfast and decided not to finish mine either.
I would simply return to Randolph.
I drove to Boston unannounced leaving at dawn the following Friday morning. The trip was long and the weather fair, but she deserved the truth. I arrived just before 10:00 AM, as the drive was just over three hours. I knew she had a class until 11:00 AM, so I decided to gather my thoughts.
The sad part was that she had been so supportive. How could I have been caught by the "Venus-Fly Trap" and broke our bond. I knew really not how or why I had let the events unfold, but I did. As I waited for her outside the science building; smoking a cigarette to calm my nerves, she saw me and rushed in a lunge toward me with a giant hug. Little did she know that I was about to break her heart in two.
We went downtown to a restaurant for breakfast. It took me a while but I finally broke the news.
I said it in the best lite possible, stating, "Samantha, I want to apologize in advance for what I am about to tell you. I have broken our trust. Not that we have had a formal arrangement in place, but I feel as though we have an incredible bond and you have supported me along this journey to "find myself" from Day 1. That being said, I want you to know that I slept with a woman in Montpelier. I haven't seen her since, as she left like a bad renter in the nite, but it happened. I felt compelled to tell you in person and that is why I am here."
The tears immediately started running down her face and her fork she dropped in mid air and slammed her coffee cup on the table. After a few more tears and regaining some composure, she started, "I too realize we are not an item, but we had something special. I was waiting for you to "find yourself" before entering formal partnership, as I knew not what you wanted to do and neither do you. And now this. And now, I am not so sure. I need some time."
She declined a ride back to the school and instead hailed a cab outside. I paid for breakfast and decided not to finish mine either.
I would simply return to Randolph.
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