The Bragg Farm is a great little place in East Montpelier and the most perfect place for a 4 year old.

 

 

 

They sell you grain to feel their animals.

 

 

 

My niece watched her mom feed the mini horse.

 

 

She tried it

 

 

but the horse started nibbling her fingers.

 

 

My sister showed her how to keep her hand flat.

 

 

My niece with the whole thing and just threw the grain a the horse.

 

 

 

 

The horse begged shamelessly.

 

 

So she tried feeding it from the cup.

 

 

 

 

Inside the have maple creemees.

 

 

Past the maple cream samples

 

 

mustards,

 

 

jams,

 

 

 

and racks of fudge

 

 

is the ice cream!

 

 

 

 

Good to the last drop.

 

 

If all that wasn’t enough, there is a beautiful view too.

 

Just past the fork in the road

 

 

 

Two houses up from the bunker where they were packing corn.

 

 

Across the road from the barn

 

 

and the cows.

 

 

There’s a little boy learning from his Grampa

 

 

to enjoy work and having fun all at the same time.

 

 

Because Grampa taught him early

 

 

Grampa has all the confidence in the world in his abilities.

And that little boy knows it.

 

I was feeling pretty sad that most of my favorite NHL players are now out of the playoffs so I stopped at the local rink to watch recreational adult league hockey.
This kid in red on the right made my night!
Look at that leg extension, his stride is text-book correct, you can draw a straight line from his right elbow down to his left toe. If only every kid I coached could learn to skate like this…



He might be the shortest player on the ice but because of his hustle he’s winning races to loose pucks every time he steps on the ice.




Back check, fore check, pay check! And they’re going to the championship game.
Another great day for hockey.

 

Miss Emma II is a pretty ‘99 Kenworth that had just come in from California.

 

 

I asked who Miss Emma was named after. Emma grins and said “Me.”

 

 

 

She told me they’d had a custom sleeper put on. I forget the measurements, but it’s extra long.

 

 

 

It’s set up like a little camper in there. They’ve got a one burner stove so they don’t have to eat truck stop food all the time, a shower/toilet, mini fridge, and a table that converts into a bed.

 

 

 

The steering wheel was well worn and then some.

Emma laughed and said her husband had left the bull dog in the truck one time and the dog did what any bull dog left alone with nothing to do might do, he chewed on the wooden steering wheel.

“It gives it character” she said. remembering the bull dog fondly.

 

 

They won’t be making it home for Easter this year. But they have some family in TN stopping by the truck stop for a quick visit before they have to get back on the road.

 

Life on the road is a hard way to make a living.

 

 

Happy resurrection day whether you’re at home, at a truck stop or somewhere in between doing whatever it takes to make ends meet.

 

~PN

 

My first memory of Grammy was of her arriving in her little green “Grammy Green” as we called it, diesel VW rabbit with ice cream. From then on I just assumed all grandmothers brought ice cream when they came to visit.

 

 

She told us grandkids stories about doing so well in school that she skipped 3rd grade.

I’m sad that there are no childhood photos of her. None.

 

Grammy and Grampy are the two on the left. He was the best dancer at the USO so she knew he was a keeper.

 

At 50 something she earned her bachelors degree and then went on to earn a masters. She loved doing crossword puzzles. Preferred the New York times puzzle.

She was quite the artist and wanted to teach me the right way to draw at age 4 but I drew stick figures and preferred to make smears of color on the page. She’d get a bit lecture-y at times so I’d just wait until she’d hand me all her crayons or colored pencils and some of her high quality drawing paper and she’d go back to reading or doing crossword puzzles.

She was about the coolest Gramma you could ask for. She took me to calligraphy class when I needed a ride. She drove like Richard Petty and had an amazing way of getting out of tickets.

She was well read and had a vocabulary that could build bridges or burn ‘em down.

 

She spent her last few years in the living room at the edge of all the coming and going of daily household life.

Over time her stories got more jumbled and blended with others.

She’d forget things from five minutes ago, which was a very good thing if you’d just been given four or five Irish curses. You just had to walk out of the room, take a deep breath and come back talking about something different and all would be forgotten.

 

 

 

A lot of things may have changed over the years but her love for ice Cream was not one of them!

 

 

 

She loved going out for ice cream.

 

 

She liked to get a Neapolitan.

 

 

There was never a wrong time to eat ice cream.

 

 

Not Ever.

 

 

 

She was one of the motivators for me to a get a better camera and take more photos.

She always preached finding your talents and developing them. Though to her art did not have anything to do with that black box I kept holding up to my face.

 

 

 

 

Some favorite lines of hers that we still use and smile every time we  say them:

 

“You should start a restaurant in New York.” When ever someone has made a dish you really like.

 

“You can’t leave an odd number of cookies on a plate.” When you are justifying eating one more cookie.

 

“Don’t take NO for an answer.”

 

 

We miss you Grammy.

 

~PN