LET'S GET LOST

Our first stop over the Vermont state line was Lake Bomaseen, which is just a few miles into the western part of the state. There’s a state park, but most of the land around the lake is privately owned. Neshobe Island is out in the middle of the lake. Fun fact: in the 1920s, literary critic Alexander Woollcott owned Neshobe Island. He was a member of a couple of social clubs and he invited people to come play on the island, including Harpo Marx, Laurence Olivier, Helen Hayes, Vivien Leigh, Dorothy Parker, Noël Coward, Thornton Wilder, and Walt Disney. Buster likes the Marx Brothers.

We drove to Woodstock. Not THAT Woodstock. This Woodstock is on the eastern side of Vermont. It only took us about 45 minutes! There really wasn’t any way we could get lost.

Speaking of getting lost, one of the songs Chet Baker was known for was Let’s Get Lost. Chet Baker was an American jazz trumpeter and vocalist who got a lot of attention and critical praise in the 1950s. He is known for major innovations in cool jazz that led him to be nicknamed the "Prince of Cool.” Jazz historian Dave Gelly described the promise of Baker's early career as "James Dean, Sinatra, and Bix (Beiderbecke), rolled into one.” A long time ago, Betty introduced me to Chet Baker’s music. Wow! When he sings Let’s Get Lost and My Funny Valentine and plays his trumpet, those are some moments where I am truly grateful that I have ears to hear. He gets five paws out of five.

Woodstock was first settled in 1768 by James Sanderson and his family. In 1776, Joab Hoisington built a gristmill and a sawmill on the south branch of the Ottauquechee River. The town was incorporated in 1837. By 1859, the population was 3,041. Remarkably, the 2020 census shows a population of 3,005.

What a treat! Woodstock was named "The Prettiest Small Town in America" by the Ladies Home Journal magazine. Betty never subscribed but doesn’t necessarily disagree with the opinion. But you know what they say about opinions. We don’t know when they made that declaration, but we don’t think much has changed since. The Wiki machine says that the economy is now largely driven by tourism. Woodstock has the 20th highest per-capita income of Vermont towns, and a high percentage of homes owned by non-residents; meaning, a lot of the fat cats from Boston and New York have second homes here. The town's central square, called the Green, is bordered by restored late Georgian, Federal, and Greek Revival houses. The cost of real estate in the district adjoining the Green is among the highest in the state. Fun facts: Woodstock is the site of the first ski-tow in the United States circa 1934; Woodstock remains the only town in the United States with five church bells cast by Paul Revere & Co.

After a couple of days, we drove to our next stop in Lebanon, Maine. Our stop snuck up on us because we were driving in New Hampshire and the navigation lady told Betty to make a couple of quick turns. Then, boom, we were at our park in Maine. Our park was situated next to the Salmon Falls River, which is the border between New Hampshire and Maine. One of the cats that worked at our park is named Tom. Pretty appropriate. He was a good dude. He helped us with some recommendations on local stuff. We drove about thirty minutes to see Portsmouth, which, not surprisingly, is a port town in New Hampshire. New Hampshire has a population of just a whisker under 1.5 million and Portsmouth is about 22,000 of those souls.

Downtown Portsmouth is right up our alley. It’s got a nice European feel to it with preserved historic buildings and lots of street cafes and businesses. We stopped for lunch at the Durbar Square Restaurant, a family-owned restaurant serving authentic Nepalese cuisine. Yum. As we sat and soaked up the sunshine, we watched a steady stream of middle school and high school kids making their way from school to wherever they were going. It struck us as unusual that the school is located in the same neighborhood as the downtown business center and that so many kids could walk home without taking a bus. Refreshing.

We walked a few blocks from downtown and found an old neighborhood called Strawbery Banke (not a misspelling!!), which is ten acres of preserved historic residences and businesses, some dating back to 1720. This was a neighborhood where the well-to-do lived. It was so interesting seeing authentic restoration dating back three hundred years and imagining how people and cats lived.

We need a nap,

Betty and Buster

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