A few years back my family and I rented a house atop of Cow Path Forty–What a winter! It seemed to snow more in March that year than it did all season. We watched as the plow piles in our driveway reached alarming heights. And then it all began to melt…
Each day was another adventure as we maneuvered our way up and down our road, dodging the deepest of ruts. We thought a lot about cows and demolition derbies, but nothing encouraged us more than the discovery made one day at the crest of our hill:
a large sunshine-colored pinwheel was planted smack in the middle of the tiny pond that had formed in our road.
So deep was this rut that her plastic-petaled face survived for days without being crushed. The sight of her buoyed us through all that brown… with the promise of SPRING!
“Well, LIFE is messy… it’s symbolic,” my husband proclaims in his weekly phone call to his parents–three-hundred miles away on the Jersey coast.
This is one of those times when I know the people on the other end of the line are wondering why the heck we live in a place where there is such a thing as “MUD Season.”
I’m sitting in bed with the worst head cold I’ve had in years wondering the same thing. WHY am I here? It’s April, and there are eight-foot snow drifts outside my window.
Now it’s my in-laws turn to share their weather (rub our noses in it more likely–in a not so subtle attempt to get us to move back “home.”)
“Sunny and 76 degrees on Monday.”
Seventy-six degrees… 76 degrees! The number turns over and over in my head, like the winning digits on a slot machine in Atlantic City.Immediately, I see myself packing up the car and the kids and heading south. My whole being vibrates to the possibility of pure undiluted sun–no snow, no mud, just SUN.
Then I remember that the baby is teething (all four top teeth at once) and that we both have ear infections (I didn’t even know adults could get those). My husband obviously has work, and our older son has school–even if it’s only kindergarten.
My fantasy of escaping south melts into a puddle–a big depressing puddle! I tune back into the phone call to hear my husband share OUR forecast. To their seventy six and sunny, he volleys:
Raefle (visipix.com)
“50 degrees and raining…for the NEXT couple of days!”
I slide back down under the covers, even more disgusted that I live here at this moment in time. I now completely resent Vermont for any efforts it’s making to warm up: fifty degrees is a pathetic attempt at spring-like weather in the face of seventy six. And RAIN! The snow might finally surrender, but the MUD will be consuming!
I wish I could just go to sleep till it’s all over.
“The roads are still passable,” I hear may husband offer cheerfully, in his‘Aren’t we amazingly resilient to live here’ tone .
He’s up for the challenge, like we reside permanently on one of those Survivor television programs he’s been sneaking to watch when I’m at work.
(visipix.com)
The word “passable” echoes in my ears despite my attempt to block out any thoughts to the contrary. With rain and warmer temperatures, these roads really might become “impassable” ie. I’m stuck here on the top of this muddy hill with two children and a husband who has to leave at dawn to hike to the nearest pavement.In some last ditch effort to rescue myself from total despair, I resurrect the first words I eavesdropped from this phone call:
“LIFE IS MESSY.”
I tell myself that there probably IS some symbolic meaning, some deeper purpose, in staying and facing the mess. (I’m a sucker for the “big picture” if one can be found; especially when I can’t find any cheap flights to my sister’s in Florida.) And when the boys are grown and the last dirt roads have been paved, there won’t even be mud seasons anymore.
Come to think of it, I feel we ALL have the responsibility to share these mud seasons with our children before it’s too late, before they forget what a dirt road can look like and sound like and feel like in the spring (no matter what it does to our alignments and mufflers).
Think of how many children living on paved roads in our towns and cities are deprived of the mud we take for granted in the country!
Aidan's Shoes (photo: Kelly Salasin)
Suddenly I feel a song coming on, the one my little ‘Vermonter’ comes home from school singing every spring:
“MUD, MUD, I love Mud. I’m absolutely, positively, wild about Mud! You can’t go around it. You gotta go through it… Beautiful! Fabulous! Super Duper Mud!”
Life IS messy. Mud is messy. Will running away from it really make it any better–or is the old adage, like the song suggests, true?
“The only way around it, is through it.”
Maybe, just maybe, if I stay, and face this mess, I’ll come out the other side of this season, greener and more beautiful than I ever imagined possible; purified by the snow, stripped of illusions by its melting, and knee deep in the reality of life’s mud and beauty. (I told you I was a sucker.)
So what if I get stuck? What if I can’t get out? It doesn’t last forever. Nothing does. And if it’s really bad, the kids and I can sing that song–heck we can scream it at the top of our lungs if we have to. We can all join together and let it echo from the puddles and the ditches and the sink holes…
“MUD!, MUD!, I LOVE MUD!”
Happy Mud Season to you and yours!
from Kelly Salasin, from the top of Cow Path 40, Marlboro VT
Residents head to the Town Hall for Marlboro's 2010 Town Meeting (photo: Marcia Hamilton)
(Scroll down below to see the tweets)
The room breaks out in laughter as townspeople turn toward each other–repeating the word “tweeting’–after my announcement that I’ve been live posting today’s Town Meeting for VPR.
The only other time the gathering laughs as hard is when the Town Energy Committee announces that they have received a $750 grant for an audit of our 200-year old Town Hall (where today’s meeting takes place.)
Though a 20 foot snow pile stands beside the building, the weather today is so atypically mild that most attendees can remove their hats and gloves (and some even coats) in the beloved–but drafty–Town House.
Kids play on the snow pile during the lunch break, Marlboro Town Meeting, 2010 (photo: Marcia Hamilton)
Marlboro’s first town meeting took place in 1775 after being settled a decade earlier. The town once called “New Marlborough” had a population of 1300 in the year 1820. The census for 2000 recorded 978 citizens in present-day Marlboro. (Info. from the Marlboro Historical Society.)
To follow the highlights of the Marlboro’s 2010 Town Meeting, take a look at the stream of tweets (140 characters or less) that were posted live during yesterday’s annual gathering:
8:55 am, Residents take their seats for Marlboro's Annual Town Meeting, 2010 (photo: Marcia Hamilton)
Tweeting Town Meeting
(9:15 am)
Up at 6 2 make it back 2 VT in time for Town Mtg~ still missed my fav. part~the opening
(9:30 am)
Marlboro Town Mtg. now discussing School Bd’s request 2 reduce their own stipend from $1,000 to $100
(9:45 am)
After much discussion “against” reducing Marlboro School Board stipend, amendment passes 2 support their request
(10:00 am)
Only in VT~Marlboro Town Mtg. Moderator steps down 4 moment 2 answer question in his other role as District Superintendent
Moderator( & School Superintendent Steven John) presides over Marlboros 2010 Town Meeting (photo Marcia Hamilton)
(10:15 am)
Almost FULL House here in Marlboro (Town House that is) approx. 120 ppl
(10:30 am)
School Superintendent turns back 2 Town Mtg Moderator & Marlboro school budget passes with ease
(10:45 am)
Marlboro Town Mtg has apparently shifted 2 comically editing the Town Report after brief adjournment
(11:00 am)
Forced Hand count 2 suspend rules 2 move “closing discussions” B4 Lunch while attendance high
(11:05 am)
Standing Applause~Bob Anderson speaks on behalf of Marlboro Conservation Commission who raised MILLION 7+ 2 preserve Hogback MT!
(11:15 am)
It’s VT Town Meetings where I learned what it means 2 participate: http://wp.me/pja7h-w6
(11:30 am)
Long-time Marlboro resident Dan MacArthur proposes shifting vote for Town Officers 2 Town Mtg rather than ballot
(11:35 am)
Constable Clarence Boston supports vote 4 Officers at Town Mtg when VT makes 2day PAID HOLIDAY!
(11:40 am)
Road Foreman Dave Elliot counters that Meeting Hall wouldn’t accommodate all voters if Officers were 2B elected at Town Mtg
(11:45 am)
Marlboro’s Town Meeting suspended 2 welcome State Rep. Marek~with applause
(11:50 am)
Always lots of knitters at Marlboro’s Town Meeting; mine is the only lap with a computer
(11:55 am)
This live coverage made possible by wi fi at Town Hall; no high speed access yet at my Marlboro home
(12:00 pm)
Marlboro res. Alan Dann whose wife is Dr. addresses Rep. Marek~ wants VT 2 serve as model 4 rest of nation around HEALTH CARE!
(12:05 pm)
Almost skipped Town Mtg this yr 2 prolong family vaca; VPR inspired me 2 B here once again; had 2 wake kids at 6:00 am
(12:10 pm)
14 yr old son attends Town Mtg. every yr since infant; learning what it means 2 live in community
(12:15 pm)
Marlboro Town Meeting about to adjourn for annual community POTLUCK LUNCH (my boys live 4 the homemade desserts!)
(12:20 pm)
Biz Owner Jane Wilde apologizes for cell phone ringing during Town Meeting~ a first for Marlboro
(12:30 pm)
Marlboro Potluck Lunch, Town Meeting Day, 2010 (photo: Marcia Hamilton)
A Town Mtg Potluck 4 all ages~grandchildren, elders & everything in between
(12:45 pm)
Whetstone Inn owner Jean Boardman’s “Chocolate Creme de Cacoa cake” is dessert of choice at Marlboro’s Potluck–every yr!
(1:15 pm)
Motion 2 keep Selectboard comp. at current rate rather than reduce it–2 avoid lengthy Marlboro discussion against reducing 🙂
A family of pumpkins on the back porch, photo: Will DeBock
“I really like the houses where we sit down and talk to people.”
Aidan, age 14 (last trick or treat?)
Halloween is a unique experience of community in rural Vermont. Unlike the warp speed of suburban trick-or-treating, there’s lots of downtime (aka. distance) between houses here–either by foot or by car. This took getting used to at first, but my kids were born here so they never knew the difference.
Over the years, I’ve come to treasure this slowed experience, taking cues from my kids, who seemed unfazed by the pace, stopping in at homes to sit and visit, munching on the baked goodies while we talk, and getting acquainted with members of the community we may know only from sight.
Each family has their own highlights for sure. I know that mine loves the bit of walking we do from house to house on our mile-long dirt road, bumping into others in the dark and banding together as we arrive to spend time with neighbors.
Margaret and John’s has been a favorite over the years, and we feel the sting of her loss now. Jean at the Inn is another highlight–with hot cider for all, and amazing cookies for the kids (they always share …after I beg.)
Rachel and Pieter live way out from the center of town, but their homemade donuts are worth the drive. Then there’s Gail’s fudge up on the hill, and Megan’s pumpkin seeds and blonde brownies. (We miss her old dog Millie.)
When Kirsten was teaching at the school, she made homemade taffy in her kitchen on her back road; now Liz and Craig share homemade treats there.
Sometimes, there’s a bonfire down North Pond Road; and often a moonlit view from atop Cow Path 40.
On a warmer Hallows Eve, we’d eat dinner in the small cemetery on Fox Road. Our friend Jesse is there now so we’ll at least stop to leave something at his headstone.
The hardest part of a rural Halloween for me is that we never get many trick-or-treaters ourselves. I love that knock on the door, and the sight of costumed child on my porch whose bag I get to help fill with treats. Now I bring the treats with me so that I can share them with friends along the way.
“Popcorn or candy?” I’ll ask. The kids take the popcorn. The adults all want candy.
A few years back my family and I rented a house atop of Cow Path Forty–What a winter! It seemed to snow more in March that year than it did all season. We watched as the plow piles in our driveway reached alarming heights. And then it all began to melt…
This Vermont Life 