Fast forward to today and we are now on the slow, but certain crawl to the end-of-school finish line in something like 28 days. 28 days. Yikes. I have no idea how we will get it all done, but miraculously we manage to do it year after year without incident. Multiplying gray hair perhaps, but rarely does anyone go up in flames. Now, rather than detail my long punch list of year-end to do's, let's instead look back to what was a most spectacular start to school vacation week at our place in Vermont a few weeks back...
The daily temps that week hung between 65 - 70 degrees every day, which was especially helpful as Dad, Mom, Auntie Betty and I made our way north. It wasn't below freezing and snowing like last April vacation week. No way. Mom was coming and for that very reason we had blue-skied, picture-perfect WARM days! Phew. Teeming with gratitude.
Plus, we determined that Betty hasn't stepped foot in Vermont since I was about 9 years old (give or take). Do the math. That was a really long time ago! She came with piles, and I mean piles of presents that Christmas long ago. She also came with my beloved Uncle Pete who as a warm-weather man quite likely hadn't seen snow in years. As luck would have it, that Christmas we had loads of snow, frigid temps and a crew of kids who pleaded with him and Betty to play outside. We did get him out there, bright red, hand-knit cap upon his head. I think he even did some cross country skiing. Oh, how I adored my Uncle Pete. It was a magical Christmas indeed. Grateful once again.
So this April's visit was particularly special and the warm, sunny days were a huge bonus. What my parents didn't know was that Lise Vander Woude Steeby was also coming. Lise was the 5th Hazlett kid. No, she wasn't really one of ours in the true sense, but she claimed us and we claimed her very early on in the Vermont days. "Can the girl play?" I asked her mom after trudging across the road and knocking on the then unfamiliar door one very cold, snowy day. From then on, Lise joined the crazy, wacky, lively Hazlett family and she never left. More than 40 years later she remains one of us, and for that we are especially grateful.
This year's April vacation began with a flurry of long ago tales from Saxton's River days, as well as long overdue catching up on where our lives are now. Laughter abounded as memories tumbled out. Lise told about the time that Dad suited us all up head to toe in snow gear, waxed sets of cross-country skis for himself and four kids (Mia was too little then and Mom was surely glad for a few moments of quiet), and led us all up Hartley Hill for a snow adventure through the woods on an unchartered, freshly fallen snow trail. Within no time, Patrick was complaining, everyone was wet with sweat, and I'm certain a few others were grumbling to turn back. Nope. Dad forged ahead under heavily snow-covered branches and led us on a skiing escapade like no other. I'm sure the beauty was lost on us all at the time, but I sure am grateful Lise remembers this story as it's a treasure today.
I have to say that some of the best stories came from Dad and Betty, some were familiar and some quite new. Dad and Betty talked about growing up in Walpole, playing baseball in nearby fields. Betty remembers always being glad that Dad "picked her" to play on his team.... not necessarily because she was his sister, but because she was a damn good ball player. They told tales about walking down to Charlie Flower's convenience store and depositing penny candy into their pockets (or along the inside of their pant waistlines - Betty's technique), while Charlie made bets in the back room. Stealing? Really? Yes. Stealing. Loved it. On summer days, to make a little money they picked (stole?) apples and blueberries from nearby farms and sold them to earn a little summer income. They laughed hard as they told these stories, and we laughed along with them.
A trip to Ben and Jerry's and a stop by Bernie Sander's campaign headquarters rounded out the visit. Unfortunately, Bernie and his signature ice cream were unavailable to Dad, which quite honestly was a blow, but we managed. Ben and Jerry's had a way of softening that blow in the unique way that only those two ice cream rock stars can. That, coupled with gorgeous Vermont views, unmistakable love and cherished trips down memory lane, made it all worthwhile. We were grateful for every moment and then some.
