I have loved to fish since I was a kid, and I was lucky enough as a kid to have a brother who let me fish with him, teaching me how to tie knots and techniques for catching whatever it was we were fishing for. And he didn’t baby me; I had to learn not to fear fish or bait from a very young age. And I have loved to fish ever since.
Since even before Nancy and I arrived in Vermont, I have been dreaming about water. I couldn’t wait to get up here and start fishing. However, once we arrived, I put off getting a licenses and the gear to go out. However, a few days ago, Nancy collected some fishing gear she had, so it was time to break the drought.
I chose McIntosh Pond for our first trip. It’s close- maybe 10 minutes away up Dairy Hill Road, not far from the birthplace of Joseph Smith- yes, that Joseph Smith, founder of the Mormon Church. I joked with Nancy that we were so close to a Mormon holy place that the trout in McIntosh Pond were a variety called Mormon Tabernacle Trout. Yum.
Anyhow, we had a lovely day, caught no keepers of any kind, but did snag a variety of pumpkinseeds (what we call perch as a generic term back in Texas), bullheads (catfish), and even one tiny little black bass. Trout are apparently slow for the rest of the year until spring, but I could have cared less. It was such a perfect day and the pond so gorgeous, I was happy just being there.
We made a new friend, too.
A guy named Sun was fishing around the point from us and having better luck with the trout. He came over and talked to us a couple times, then eventually invited us over to join him. We chit-chatted about this and that and he proved himself to be exceedingly polite and friendly. Sun wants to take me ice fishing in a few months, something I am dying to try.
So I’ve got a new fishing buddy. I’d say that’s a great catch.
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West Lebanon, NH has already become a regular Sunday destination for Nancy and me. It’s still a little bizarre to think, “Hey, wanna run over to a whole other state and have lunch and shop?” and know it’s as easy getting there as Andrews to Odessa. And the trips to Lebanon are well worth it.
First up is a local Korean/Japanese restaurant called Yama. I cannot think of much better than meals of hot, spicy soups and delicious sushi. It’s a gastronomic marriage made in heaven. It is also now our Sunday ritual.
Lebanon is also home to a few large box stores and even a tiny mall that are good for fleshing out the shopping experience. LL Bean is a big player for us; we’ve bought everything from rain jackets to fishing equipment there. There’s also Best Buy, Home Depot, K-Mart and the store everyone loves to hate: Walmart.
And ice cream. We tried (yet another) local ice cream yesterday, this time from Garelick Farms. If New Englanders don’t know anything else, they know their ice cream. Unfortunately, this particular outlet had an announcement outside that the store would close for the season October 21st. I wanted to cry.
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We’re going to Maine on Wednesday for a big pumpkin festival held in Damariscotta, near where our friend Erin lives. The highlight of the festival is the pumpkin-chunking, held on Sunday. If you’ve not seen this before, the idea is that contestants build slingshots and trebouchets to see who can send their pumpkin flying farthest.
The real idea of going to Maine, for me, however, is to see just how much seafood I can slarf down in as little time as possible. Last time I was in Maine, I had lobster for every single meal except for maybe two the five days I was there, including an amazing lobster omelet the first morning. I will be gorging myself on mussels, oysters, clams, and any damned things with fins I can get my hands on.
Oh, and it’ll be fun to see Erin again.
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I am going to end this post with a profession of love. Love, love, love.
Of course, I am talking about popcorn.
I love popcorn. I think popcorn should be kept in the house at all times. But not that Christmas tree garnish crap like Orville Redenbacher’s, flavorless, boring, generic. I’m talking locally grown, organic popcorn from right down the road called Hurricane Flats. Their Ruby Red variety is the bomb. And it makes me feel love, love, love.
Howdy Vermont! 