Springtime planter, this morning
Lots more pics below the fold -
Ye olde Yankee farmhouse dining room last Saturday night, all set up for Easter dinner after church Sunday
Sunderland, MA (in the CT River valley)
Road sign, Norcia, last summer. Best little town in Italy for trenchermen and black truffle afficionados. We picked up a car at the Roma airport and took off to explore Umbria, drove everywhere, over mountains and down some dirt farm roads that were off the GPS. Didn't get the car stuck in a farm ditch that time, but we have done so in the past. Fun and games. There's usually a nice farmer on a tractor around somewhere, and they will never take money as a thank you.
As a skilled and reasonably aggressive NYC driver, driving around Italy is a piece of cake. Except in Rome, where there are no driving rules and it's every man for himself. Good fun. Mano a mano. They all imagine themselves as macho race car drivers but they back right down if you drive New York-style.
Mrs. BD is almost a pro at finding the best places to stay. She does it on somethng called the "internets."
The hunting pup, contemplating Azicohos Lake in Maine from the cabin porch at rustic good olde Bosebuck Camp.
Woodstock, Vermont
View from the ferry on Lake Como, leaving Villa Carlotta and headed to visit Bellagio a couple of years ago. You can buy a day ticket in Como, then hop on and off the ferry at will. They run about hourly, making all the stops, then it's an express back to Como.
We took the train down from Stresa to Milan, then the train up to Como, then a walk to the ferry after checking out the Como cathedral. Had a little fun with the Somali thieves and pickpockets at the Como train station. Sneaky SOBs. Somalis work in teams - the woman distracts you, and the kid tries to grab your bag. Fortunately, everybody keeps an eye on the Somalis. In Venice, even the Italian kids try the same tricks on tourists, but I have never had a problem with them. Wimps.
My Italian uncle-in-law, The Bishop, would have chased them all away waving his cane and would have smacked them if he were fast enough on his feet. Violence seems to be the only thing Somalis understand. Why Italy welcomes Somalis is beyond me.
The BD family farm in the MA Berkshires. It ain't Downton Abbey but I have ancestors buried in our family cemetery there. Can't grow much here, except bears, turkey, and deer. Can do Black Angus if the dang fences get repaired (for the 10th time).
Trees and branches blow down, crush fences. River meanders, undermines our bridges and fences. Nature. Taxes steal our money: nature.
Beaver dam at the farm. I like the beaver work, but my Dad does not appreciate it.
Cafe in Vienna, with a pupette. Travel is all about cafe stops to process what you've been seeing and doing. Cafe before noon, beer after. Like all of my family, this pupette is a damn the torpedoes, Let's Go Hi Ho sort of person.
She is in Prague now, making a film. Hope it's a big hit.
Friends on my last fishing boat. Loved that boat. Sea Ox. Dry boat. Liked to go out alone after nor'easters and hurricanes to practice my boat-handling. Took that boat through a wave higher than my radio antenna. Crazy fun. Did get rather wet that time, but we power through them, shake off the water, thank God, and take on the next one. Rock n roll. Bilge pumps clear and working.
Adrenaline is good, cleans the arteries.
Foothills in Montana, near the Bob Marshall (aka "The Bob"). On foot is good, but on horseback is better. We can handle horses, more or less.
Manhattan. Me love it.
Wellfleet, MA
Spello
Early morning, heading out of Cabo harbor for a day of fishing
Lincoln Center, on way to Atlantic Grill for a seafood supper after the concert
Lake Winnipegosis, Manitoba. Duck hunting.
Good, tough skiing in Telluride. Wish they had bars on their dang chairlifts...Sheesh. I have a touch of acrophobia but I mostly can deal with it.
Todi. A nice thing about towns like Lucca, Todi, Montefalco, is that there is no rush to sight-see, so you can ramble around aimlessly, and just BE THERE.
