:: in a mirror dimly :: A theology and culture blog with the Bible in one tab and a news feed in the other.

I live down the road from the Wayside Country Store in Arlington, VT, one of the best country stores in the state of Vermont. I stop there for coffee some busy mornings, a drink on a hot day, or random groceries when needed. It’s THE meeting place for locals who gather at a table for coffee in the morning and it offers neighbors a chance to rub shoulders.

Last week someone near the store was hanging laundry on the line at 1:00 AM. This person noticed smoke coming out of the Wayside, called the fire department, and soon the small fire was extinguished. The proximity of the basement blaze to the electrical wires meant that five more minutes of burning would have ensured the loss of the whole store.

Five minutes stood between the loss of a community fixture. No coffee, no hanging out, no ice cream bars, and no chatting with neighbors. If the store had gone up in flames, I’m sure the community would have rallied to rebuild the Wayside in record time, but nevertheless I was forced to consider the nature of our new home.

Though I don’t own stock in the Wayside or have any personal investment in the store, it has taken on a whole new significance in my life. It’s become the heart of a community and we have assigned a value to this place where friendships are made, deals are struck, and business gets done.

People usually talk about the lack of options we have in Vermont. The shopping at Saratoga Springs is an hour away and so I receive much pity.

I have to admit that I count myself fortunate to live in a town so small that most of my neighbors congregate in one store, the owners take the time to learn first AND last names, and I can count on seeing people I know most of the time. It’s wonderful to be a part of something so valued and appreciated.

Technorati Tags: Vermont - country+store - Arlington

Our quiet dirt road at this end of Arlington, Vermont is the perfect place to walk: flat, quiet, rolling along a river, and covered by spectacular mountain views.

Julie and I have been rising early to go for walks in the cool summer mornings, and it’s not unusual to see deer leaping across sprawling fields or stupid baby bunnies who hang out in the road before fleeing to the shelter of tall grass that is going to seed with dark brown heads.

This morning we rounded a corner and spied a pack of wild turkeys. Two adults and six rambling children made up the crew, and they took off at full gallop when they noticed our approach.

As the adults gained ground, two of the young turks took flight and easily settled into some trees to the left of the road. The rest were startled by an approaching truck and deemed veering to the right a better option.

Amidst this fleeing and indecision I considered that Benjamin Franklin strongly lobbied for the turkey to become America’s national symbol. Just imagine the symbol for the US Postal service.

We approached faster now and the turkeys stayed close to the road. The tree huggers zoomed down to join the crew to the right who began flapping their wings and soon crossed a field to take refuge in a circle of trees. That was the last we saw of them.

Like I say, when they won’t provide cable TV, you have to take what you can get for entertainment.

Technorati Tags: Vermont - turkeys

A hot topic these days in Vermont is education reform. The system is supposedly inefficient and expensive. With young people leaving because house prices are sky-rocketing, many school populations are shrinking. The thought of allocating some tax dollars and generating revenue through development options has some towns licking their lips.

Now I don’t claim to know the best way to deal with Vermont’s education system or that of any other state (I know Maine is in a similar boat), but our language betrays us here. Most of the talk about schools comes down to dollars saved and spent efficiently.

Never mind if the life of a community revolves around a school. Never mind if the small class sizes may provide a better education. If money can be saved, then we seize the opportunity.

The same typically goes for other public services, where saving tax dollars comes before providing beneficial, if not important services. The more I think about the life of my community, the more inclined I am to happily ship my tax money away.

My Republican roots have taught me to be suspicious of inefficient government programs that are sometimes exploited by loafers, but on the whole I think our idolatry of money must be kept in check by an analysis of the public good. If keeping a school open is better for the community, but not for our wallets, then I’ll all for keeping the school around. It’s worth the money.

For more about Vermont’s education system, see Vermont Scrapwood.

Who hasn’t boasted about finding a great deal? I know some women who can’t talk about their clothes without mentioning how cheap they found it. I also swap stories with friends and relatives about finding a great deal on computer equipment or a used book at a library.

In a capitalistic, consumer-oriented society it’s not shocking that we look for a good deal. I can’t help but applaud one relative who earned bragging rights by building a better computer for less money than his friend. There’s nothing inherently wrong with a bargain.

Unfortunately we have raised finding cheap goods and services as the highest value, and forgotten how they are manufactured and delivered. While still upholding the value of thrift and spending money wisely, I’d like to spend a little time talking about the moral issues surrounding  our buying choices and other every-day decisions that receive less thought than required.

The trick to this discussion about our obsession with saving money is whether  or not every one can be held to the same level. For example, so people just need to find the best deal out of necessity. Buying a locally-made product for home at a higher price may snatch needed money for groceries. Clearly we can’t hold everyone to the same standard.

To the degree that we are able, our buying habits are desperately in need of scrutiny. We may be surprised with what we find. Perhaps we can save money without ruining our planet and our local communities. That is a topic worth considering in the days to come.

A search for “Vermont” over at YouTube will yield the “802″ video as the most popular video in that category. It’s a hysterical listing of Vermont’s quirks and defining qualities.

The rappers who gave us that gem from the Green Mountain state have remixed the tune, added a pretty good rapper to the group, and produced another video called “CO2.”

In three minutes they cover all the renewable energy possibilities and call for the Vermont congress to pass an energy bill that unfortunately is meeting opposition from Governor Douglas. Though not as funny as the 802 video, it’s still entertaining and done in a beautiful spot.

Technorati Tags: Vermont - youtube - energy - 802

While slicing my kayak paddle through the waters of Lake Champlain this weekend, I had a personal sense of smallness. This enormous lake, extending far below and for miles north and south of my position, was once an inland sea and the remains of that time are embedded all about.

To the West loomed the Adirondack mountains, steady and unmoving in their layered mass. To the East ran the Green Mountains of Vermont, the craggy nose of Mount Mansfield jutting out of the steady ridge line.

Everywhere I looked I found something large, old, and intimidating.

This one little life bobbing in the wind and waves seemed so tiny and insignificant in the presence of these giants who have been around for thousands of years and are planning to stick it out long after I’m gone. It was a humbling moment that sent me crawling to God, fessing up for every time I’ve ever thought more of myself than warranted.

Though I may lead a good life and enjoy my sojourn here on earth, those deep waters and endless mountains hint at an eternity beyond the shores of my mind. I’m just a blip on the radar. Racked with my own insecurity, I called out to God.

And then I began thinking about Orange Crush soda. I don’t know when soda seeped into my holy moment, but on the return trip to our camp site along the lake, I gradually decided that an orange soda was really all I wanted from life.

I suppose the holy moment fizzled and then went flat.

It was a simple matter to procure this soda. A vending machine taunted me next to the camps bathrooms. Easy enough: bring change, buy soda, drink, and move on with life. But these small things we crave have a way of turning on us.

With one dollar and ten cents in hand, I approached the soda machine only to realize that the sodas sold at an inflated $1.50 for a 20 oz. bottle. I’m not one to pass judgement on the State Park Service of Vermont. I’d probably price gouge soda-thirsty campers who didn’t plan ahead if put in the same place.

I walked across the camp to our car, slipped out a dollar, and returned. This time I found that the dollar feeder didn’t work: a bad sign. In frustration I returned to the car to scoop any and all change to make up the $1.50. I had just enough.

With a heart-wrenching thunk the coins dropped into the change slot. The soda machine was out of order. I should have known. In my desperation I checked with the camp volunteer who shared her knowledge of a famed soda machine by the swimming pool–the pool that happens to be “broken,” but we’ll not elaborate on that.

Sensing the urgency of my quest, I revved up the car and shot over to the pavilion for my orange soda. A flashing red light on the soda machine hinted that all was well. No doubt the machine was fully operational, but sadly lacking in the orange soda option. Undeterred, I put up the stiff upper lip and punched the root beer button.

Sitting down in my chair by the lake, I sipped at the root beer that obviously didn’t taste as good as it should have. But then I looked up at the mountains and the lake and I heard a little voice say, “Now where we?”

Technorati Tags: Vermont - Champlain

I raced home after a positively nutty half day at work. I had to meet the Comcast installation guy at our home. We had a 1:00 pm appointment for cable internet installation.

It was a flurry of activity. I pulled in and shortly thereafter an important package arrived, not to be outdone by the Comcast truck pulling in a few minutes later. My spirit was light, light I tell you.

Then the bad news came.

The Comcast installer was a young, kind, smiling fellah who gently told me that the cable stopped about one to two miles down the road.

One mile . . .

He apologized for the error Comcast made and I bade him farewell. A fellow, long-suffering dial-up bound neighbor stopped by to share her condolences after watching the scene. She had been hoping Comcast had finally come to our little slice of rural paradise.

Alas, we both shared war stories of dial-up, thunderstorms, and wayward satellite dishes. And that’s where we stand. The dish is all we’ve got. It’s slow and suffers from lighting, but it’ll have to do until Vermont’s government gets off its tail and makes state-wide broadband happen.

As Todd said to me, “nice. that is what you get for living in Vermont :)”

Technorati Tags: Vermont - satellite+internet - Comcast - satellite+dish

We’re back in Vermont after a fantastic weekend in Maine. I anticipated incredible scenery and excessive puns playing off the main and “Maine” thing. I was not disappointed on either account.

I’ve already posted on the flood of cliches that swamped my mind during the drive out and also during my first day in Bethel, ME. The puns were right out there for all to see, the clear winner being: “Maine” Street Realty. I’m practically green with envy at such a pun.

Vermont is not punable. I drop part of the blame on the French. First of all, it’s just fun to blame the French. They’ve had it coming ever since Napoleon. But coming more to the point, Vermont is based on the French words for “Green Mountains.”

While I’m sure the French themselves are very able to make puns–heck, I’ve heard that even Jacques Derrida, in all his thick semiotics, litters his works with puns–Americans are unable to manufacture puns out of the raw materials of French words.

French is the elegant, sophisticated language of the aristocracy and kings. Americans still cower at the savoir faire of French, unable to twist fancy French words into a suitable pun.

And if you think I’m out to lunch . . . you’re right. It tasted delicious.

Technorati Tags: french - pun - Vermont

Cars are a major way that people define themselves. A car can symbolize personality, financial status, and convictions. While living in Vermont I’ve noticed a few car trends.

Fancy Soccer Moms: shiny, brand new SUV.

Rich Retirees: Small sports car or really big SUV.

The Pragmatics: Subaru Station Wagon or typical sedan. The Subaru station wagon seems to be the official car of Vermont.

The Eco-Friendly: tiny cars or if they have a little $$, a Hybrid.

Sorta Rich and Sorta Pragmatic: old Saab, old Mercedes, etc.

The Luxurious: a big fat Caddy (a rare find in these parts)

The Locals: old beater of a pick up truck.

Locals with Money to Spare: brand new pick up truck or beater truck with old Saab next to it.

There are exceptions to this and many categories blend, but I’ve spent enough time around town to notice these trends. This may be more true down in south west Vermont, but I know Subaru station wagons are crawling all over the place.

Technorati Tags: cars - Vermont

Last weekend a tragedy struck the small Vermont town of Manchester: a young man who grew up in the town drowned in a canoe accident while away at college. This was the first time I’ve seen how a small town works through an event of that magnitude.

First of all, within two to three days, just about everyone knew. I needed to only provide a few reference points and every person I talked with knew exactly what I was referring to. Secondly, there was a tremendous outpouring of sympathy and support. I have never seen anything like it.

The funeral took place yesterday and Manchester was absolutely swamped with people: men sporting ties and women in beautiful dresses. Without divulging details of the funeral itself, I will say that I have never seen so many cars show up for a funeral.

As I’m processing all of this, I keep thinking about the ways everyone in a small town is interconnected. Not necessarily dependent on one another, but connected. The degrees of separation are small, we know people who know people, and so we have a very quick connection to each tragedy and triumph in the community.

When this tragedy hit Manchester, there was a common bond I experienced with many. We’re all in this mess called life together. We’re all struggling with similar losses, fears, and weaknesses.

In a moment we could agree that all is not well and good with the world; life can be as wonderful as it is painful. And in that moment, I remember that all creation longs for God’s coming redemption.

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Cathy posted a link to the “802 Music Video,” and it’s pretty funny, touching on many of the peculiar qualities of Vermont. 802 is the telephone area code of Vermont for the uninitiated.

I’ve heard better rappers, but I’m not an expert on rap either. Regardless, the song is funny; I think everyone agrees that the best line is: “Our state capital might be 200 years old, but our dome is so blinging that it’s plated with gold.”

Montpelier is a funny capital if anything because there are woods right behind the capital building. I am constantly amused at the thought of a bear tearing out of the woods and scaring off the politicians. No harm intended, just a good scare.

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Life has been picking up over the past few days, and so the notebook has not made it to the computer, hence the posts have not made it to the blog. There’s a bit of a traffic jam in my moleskine notebook right now.

The main reason why we’ve been so swamped is our home situation. Back in late February we placed a home under contract. Due to some issues with the house we had to cancel the contract. Now we have another home under contract.

It’s a small ranch along River Road in Arlington, VT. The house is plain, but we think we can spruce it up with our own touches, and the two acres of land give us plenty of room to add on.

The location is pretty nice from a nature standpoint. I often walk on this road, in fact all of my “March Mapleness” pictures came from River Road. The river is nearby, not so close as to flood though, and we’re two miles away from Norman Rockwell’s former home near the West Arlington covered bridge.

We’ll be ten minutes from the center of Arlington, which I wish was closer, but the West Arlington general store will have to compensate for that. All in all we’re trading one valley for another, but not picking up and moving completely out of town. Though we’re right on the edge of it.

Now we’re praying for the loan to go through in record time.

Technorati Tags: home - Arlington - Vermont - moving

The 6th Annual Maple Open House is this weekend. It’s my bad fortune to miss it this year, but it’s the one weekend that worked to go away.

This is that wonderful time of year when all of the sugar shacks open their doors to the public and let them sample the sweet aroma and taste of fresh maple syrup. The sap of a maple tree is clear and must be boiled down to produce the syrup. It takes 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup.

One sugarer commented, “Making maple syrup is a disease that you can’t shake. You don’t do it get rich.”

One of the best events this season will be the breakfast served at Merck Forest and Farmland Center in Rupert, VT. They serve a killer breakfast with organic sausage and pancakes along with unlimited syrup at the tables. Merck is a fully operational farm with trails and some great views of the Adirondacks.

Here are some of my own maple tree pictures along with a video of sap dripping into a bucket.

Technorati Tags: maple - maple+syrup - sap - Vermont - Rupert

Maple Sap Video

Jack Bryar of Grafton, Vermont is very concerned about an upcoming bill in the Vermont legislature that he fears will ruin our state’s education system. He sent out an e-mail to bloggers asking them to post on the topic.

Instead of giving my half-informed thoughts, I’ve pasted Jack’s original e-mail into a pdf document. I don’t know enough to give a strong opinion in one way or the other, but if there is something going on behind the scenes, it is best to bring it out into the day light.

Jack Bryar’s Letter on Schools

Here are some background links for Jack and for this issue:

www.ignyt.com/html/senior_staff.html
www.cmswatch.com/Feature/59-Taxonomies
www.newsforge.com/newsforge/02/04/24/2240237.shtml?tid=9
www.theregister.co.uk/2001/09/12/we_take_this_minute/

School Board confirmation:
http://www.reformer.com/localnews/ci_5373684
http://www.wnesu.org/modules.php?name=News&file=print&sid=102
http://www.wcax.com/global/story.asp?s=5023712&ClientType=Printable

It’s happened. I went to an otherwise excellent and interesting blog and then I found the following question: “Have you filled out your brackets yet?”

Sigh. No, I haven’t. The only time I’ve filled out my brackets was in college–I decided every single game with a coin toss.

It’s hard enough for me to care about pro basketball, but getting into college hoops is too much of a stretch.  I can’t figure out why I dislike basketball so much. All I can guess is that I grew up on a steady diet of hockey. I played hockey almost every day of my youth and watched the Flyers as often as I could. Basketball just seemed to be a let down after hockey.

Anyway, for those of you who feel my disdain for college hoops this time of year, I bring the Vermont alternative: March Mapleness. Yes, the nights are cold and the days are warm, perfect conditions for the running of the sap. The weekend of March 24th-25th is the maple syrup open house weekend. It’s one of my favorite times of the year. You haven’t lived until you’ve walked into a sugar house while boiling is going on. Trust me.

Yesterday I took a walk along River Road in Arlington and came across  a ton of maple trees decked out with the old fashioned buckets. River Road is my favorite place for a walk or a bike ride.

I snapped some photos and posted them to my flickr account. I inserted my favorite pic below, which also made its way to the header of this site last night. Enjoy.

Technorati Tags: maple - march - madness - Vermont - Arlington