Open house at a Vermont creamery
Where they produce ice cream downright dreamery
Maple, chocolate, and even blueberrery
Dairy farmers have to make ends meet
By staying on their toes and on their feet
No time for sitting on their seat
Cheese-makers, ice cream-makers, goat-milkers and more
All of them working hard to try to be sure
Of paying the bills whatever the future has in store
We saw alpacas, a pig, and a cow, of course
As a way to spend an afternoon, we could have done worse
Than to see where ice cream comes from, right at the source.
The loons off my dock
My summer they do rock
Big, black, and white
They are such a lovely sight
With many mystical features
Oh, my goodness! Hark!
Is that them yodeling in the dark?
Haunting is the sound
Dreamy, and mellow, and profound
Another interesting fact?
The chicks ride mommy piggyback
Mom can’t walk around so hot
But skill at flying, swimming, and diving she do got
The nest is made
In the marshes in the shade
And Mom is not alone
Papa Loon spends lots of time at home
He shares duties nesting
While Mamma Loon goes off someplace resting
Come July we will have chicks!
And go ahead, call me a hick
But I cannot wait
For this most exciting date!
No poem last week, too busy driving
The two day trek to Vermont, where I’m now thriving
Gardening, canoeing, and writing galore
How I’ll spend my summer, of that I am sure
Our shack up here we’ve named Daydream Cottage
Hubby and cat and I love it a lottage
The porch is where I’m at most of the time
Watching ducks and loons, all most sublime
The internet is hit or miss, with no TV at all
So much seclusion and quiet. I’m having a ball!
I’m running away–in one week I’ll be free
The semester is ending and my heart fills with glee
Some final exams and then graduation. Tee-hee!
Students would be scandalized, if they did know
How doing without them makes my heart glow
Okay, so my incentive to teach is at an all time low
Blame me if you wish, but please get out of my way
Summer is upon us and I ain’t wasting a day
Worrying about work. It is time to play.
Hip hip hooray!
Quirky people, beyond spectacular scenery, and gobs of solitude. Any blog about me and my muse has got to begin in Vermont. It’s where I was born, where I have spent my summer vacations ever since, and where I am right now. Here’s why.
Like I said—beyond spectacular. Views like this have always inspired me. I didn’t think much about my muse when I was a child, but I did spend many hours imagining what was beyond that first ridge of mountains. Or the second ridge? What magic was happening in that magical and strange place where it goes from green to purple? Okay, so I was a weird kid.
As an adult, I might know what mountain I’m admiring, and the name of the town nestled in the valley on the other side, but it’s still magical. And I’m still weird. I stop the car regularly and irregularly to stare in awe at sights such as this. Call it goofing off, call it peace of mind, or call it communing with God. Whatever it is, it cues my muse.
Getting more specific, this my magical place in magical Vermont. I’ve been writing nonsense at Lake Elmore since I was about ten. A few years ago my husband and I bought a shack up here and the dock you see is my very own. I started my first mystery sitting out there. Three unpublished novels later, I’m still up here every summer, writing to my heart’s content. It’s called idyllic, and it cues my muse.
I warned you I’m weird. That’s me on the porch of my shack, Daydream Cottage. I’m out here every morning with my cat and my computer, writing. Okay, so sometimes I get distracted by the lake, which is about twenty feet in front of me, but mostly I write. I wear my pajamas because even if someone paddles by and sees me, this is Lake Elmore and it’s all okay. I wear my hat to keep the sun out of my eyes. And the fuzzy slippers keep me warm. Northern Vermont can be chilly in the morning, even in the summer. This is called routine and it cues my muse too.