Day 9 - Homeward Bound

I didn't expect for today to be the last day of the trip, but things sometimes work that way. It's okay, life's like that.

And it went off with a bang, in the good way. Not complaining!

Firstly – remember that comment, from two days ago, about seeing a glass shop? Well, what I didn't mention, is that I checked if they were open. Internets said yes, but shop itself was closed. Not surprising, because Mondays. But I did email, asking about availability, because, you see, they do classes...

So, we were packed and on the road and landing in the shop's parking lot right before 10am, because he said he could fit us in!!

Woot!!

Now, I've been doing glass beads for about thirty years now. I've worked for a glassblower, and seen his techniques. I've chatted with all kinds of glassworkers – slump, stained, spinners, enamelists of all stripes. I've taken classes in some, and seen metalwork techniques, and played with a lot of them. For insurance purposes, I've never been able to play with the big glass blobs.

Till now.

WHEEEEEE!!!

I won't go into details, but if you want to take the class for yourself, visit https://littleriverhotglass.com/ and have an incredible experience!

Because we did. Even though I learned I was doing a lot wrong, because I was used to how another person worked, and some of the steps were out of order. I'll work on my techniques, given the chance.

But we made AWESOME THINGS!!!

And though we had to turn south from there, that was the high that we rode through the rest of the state. So. Freaking. AWESOME.

South it is, because south is the direction of home.

I honestly don't remember much about southern Vermont, because we were too busy geeking out about the exerience we just had. I had wanted to stop in Brattleboro, for the squishie that popped up there, but the place is closed for renovations. Slight grumble, but holy moly did you see me at the bench with that hot glob of glass?? Lots of pics!!

Once we got into Massachusetts, we decided to stop into Magic Wings Butterfly Conservatory. Yes, they have squishies, but we already got them. These are the people directly responsible for me getting into butterfly rearing. Last time, I'd been there with my besties, loving the flutters and learning about them. They have flutter feeders for sale, and I'd bought one on a whim last time – you know, it's a thing I may need, right? Yep. A few years later, my dad came rushing in the house, in late October, with a crinkle-winged monarch that had eclosed right as he was trimming the bush it was in! And I grabbed that feeder and set up a habitat immediately. I knew what to do, because of these people. And I've been going strong ever since.

I may have bought some more feeders. And another habitat. And a butterfly light-up magic wand for my granddaughter, because why not? She loves light-up things, so she gets a lot of them from us. Because I'm too old for them. Yep. Mmm-hmm. That's what I tell myself, and eventually I'll believe it. Yep.

Yep.

(moon moon moon yep yep yep)

Sorry. Don't know what came over me....

We did have the opportunity between customers to let them know what we're doing, and that it's all their “fault.” They were tickled, of course, because we need more flutters. Moths are cool, too. I had let a wooly bear go free right before we left on this trip (honestly, I thought he'd chrysalize in May!), and before that we hosted a moth for two weeks after the Superb Owl on TV. He was fluttering at the window, trying to see the game. It was warm at the time, but not for the two weeks after! We did get to let him go at a full moon when it got a bit warmer, and he was quite a happy fluttery turbo-charged moth when we did.

And I may have five monarch chrysalises, and two tiny caterpillars, in my habitats tonight as I type.

But I digress, because flutters.

From there, on to Springfield. For many various reasons, I haven't been able to get to the squishies here on previous trips. This time, I was determined! The Basketball Hall of Fame was first, and no problem getting off the highway and into the lot. It's an interesting setup, with kiosks of memorabilia right in the center plaza leading to the museum entrance. They activate when you get near, and start playing broadcasts from the games. Startling, but neat when you get used to it. And I got to see the basketball from Wilt Chamberlain's one hundred point game in Philly. I recall that being a big deal when it was located and acquired by the museum.

After that, I had planned to go over to the science museum, get the squishie, and visit the museum. But I don't know if it was my high wearing off, or a sugar crash, or a sudden urge to go home, but Springfield was getting to me. I firmly believe that cities have their own animus (spirit or feeling, that is projected), and you can sense it. Springfield has always struck me as quite unfriendly, and I wanted OUT. And the parking lots were filled to the gills. Oh, a special exhibit, aimed at kids, of course it was overrun. Understandable. Don't get me wrong, that part of the city was absolutely beautiful, with classic architecture and an Ivy League feel to the college campus. But I needed out. I wanted to go home.

Hubby was kind enough to go in and get the squishie, and then we got a-going.

Massachusetts is small. Connecticut is even smaller. We'd had the thought to stop in the northern end of CT for the night, and plan a day towards the coast, maybe catch a AAA baseball game in Hartford. Well, when you arrive in Hartford before you know it, and it's before 3pm, yeah, we're going home.

And we did. We've visited often and repeatedly, because it's hubs' home state. And even he wanted to go home at that point. Not a problem; we already have a vague plan to come back with my bestie and go a weekend trip. The PEZ museum is there, and she's a collector, so its almost a crime to be there without her. Some other time we'll do that.

Traffic, of course, was a bit nutz. It always is in CT on a weekday, in the afternoon. So we kept our eyes on the road and all the people around us, because that's the only way to get through relatively unscathed.

It was coming up on our dinner time when Mom's text got through. There was a nasty line of storms rolling through, with hail and high winds, and we'd be driving right into the teeth of it.

Joyous. And that also explains our rather sudden homing instinct, because I react to the weather like that.

A quick stop to get some food into me (Blaugh! Sandwiches need SOME moisture! Mayo! Mustard! Gasoline flambé! Something! Gah!), and off we took.

It was tense.

It was definitely as nasty as advertised, looking at the line building up as we drove into it.

It finally caught up with us in the Pocono Mountains. Not exactly the best place for a storm encounter! Known for its trees, it is. We'd just passed the entrance to Bushkill Falls when I saw that peculiar green color, and it was time to pull over and stop.

It took a bit of time to find a place to do that, since we're on a back road in the mountains. But we finally found a gravel pullover, and took it.

You ever cuddle against a cliff? We have, now. The rain quickly went from bad to not navigable, pouring down of a murky green sky. Trees were whipping aound, but that cliff was keeping the worst from hitting, it was skipping over us and flattening stuff to our left downhill. I was texting Mom, letting her know where we were, and relatively safe, and most definitely Not Moving till the line moved on.

It took longer than we expected.

But I wasn't going out till that line moved its damp li'l cloud-tushie onward. I had the sneaking suspicion it would have been worse if we'd continued to travel on.

And I was right.

When it finally calmed down to “dripple mode,” I turned on the car. And the rest of the trip, we carefully navigated over and around downed branches, whose diameter increased the farther we got.

At least the rain stopped pretty quickly, and there was still enough light to drive safely.

We landed a little before dark, just enough to get some important things inside. We didn't have to drop off the rental yet, so we could relax and just enjoy not being in a moving metal object, and appreciate being home. We love travel, but we also enjoy coming home. And this was a decent trip, but we're woefully out of practice, and there are some things we're going to do differently for better balance.

Like mayonnaise, for instance. Really. SOMEthing for very dry and slightly stale bread. I'll give it points for travelling with us, but come on, hubs, you couldn't pack enough sodas for me, can I at least get some moisture with my meal??

Who, me, bitter? It's only been (checks calendar) twenty-six days since we got home. Since I was diagnosed diabetic and had to go on such a restricted diet, I strongly feel that life's too short for sub-par food. VERY strongly. He didn't even grab the cheese blocks or carrot sticks for nibblies, the weasel.

Yep, things will definitely be different next time.

Things have already changed. Tomorrow's my birthday, and we're going to Valley Forge on a day trip. There are two sandwiches already made and resting comfortably in the fridge, and you bet your sweet bippy that there's mayo on 'em.

So, that's our thirtieth anniversary adventures in the great north. Hope you enjoyed the narrative, and till next time, be safe!