Sam and I scored a deal on Groupon to stay at a resort in Vermont. It was lovely, like a castle, and we enjoyed just about every second of our stay. We got massages at the spa, which was Sam's idea. I admit to always being a bit skeptical of massages (strangers touching me? eww?), but I was a full convert. After we were done, we walked around like noodles, very happy and relaxed noodles.
We didn't really have set plans for the next day, so we took the scenic slow route home, driving through mountain roads and stopping when we felt like it. I love road-tripping with Sam. We listened to Psapp's album Tiger, My Friend which we both love. (links to two of our favorite songs there.) And then, because he knows this song makes me inexplicably happy, we listened to Hall and Oates "You Make my Dream Comes True" And when the song was over, I didn't have to tell him to restart it. He just did. He knows me so well. I rocked out, dancing in my seat, kissing his hand repeatedly, feeling like it was one of those absolutely perfect moments in my life, one I wouldn't trade for anything. Oh, that was a nice moment. The whole trip was worth those minutes in the car, Sam driving on roads that twisted through trees and ponds and pretty houses, me with my camera in my lap, snapping shots through the windshield.
Apparently, this area's sort of famous for its covered bridges, so we stopped at a few and took more pictures. Such lovely things, covered bridges.
[pretty red bridges]
We also stopped at a antique shop, mostly because I was in love with an enormous pile of colorful skis that were stacked against a fence outside. (You can see them on the right there.) I'm no good at finding treasures at places like this, but I had a lovely time taking pictures. And Sam found some weird book about teenagers and going to hell for listening to music (?!), which entertained him the whole time I wandered.
Right as we were heading home, I saw a sign announcing that Sharon, VT was 10 miles away. If you're Mormon or you know your Mormon history, you'll know that's Joseph Smith's birthplace. Sam was kind enough to take me on one last detour to catch sight of it. There's not much there. Just a visitor's center, which I confess we avoided (they generally get way too excited about a part-member family, and we wanted to get home), and a monument. It's lovely there though. Surrounded by all sorts of trees and quiet-feeling (except for the hymns they pipe over a loudspeaker) and all in all it felt like a place that Joseph Smith could have come from.
And that was Vermont. We came home to that Boston water crisis you may have heard about on the news. Luckily, we had heard so we bought tons of water up there so we could brush our teeth and wash tomatoes.