P always looks so relaxed at the beginning of these trips. I wish I could bottle this feeling for him for the drive back in.
The views really are at times breathtaking. I was opened mouthed the whole drive.
Even New York looks festive as we're leaving.
How does it feel to live in a tiny house on the top of a hill like this? These are the kind of thoughts you can have on a long drive.
A success was getting a picture of these incredible pink bushes, which were hard to capture and of all the colors to me were the most spectacular.
Stopped on the drive back for some Vermont Cheddar and Venison Summer Sausage with crackers.
The hotel had a free breakfast spread equipped with a giant flamboyant manager that came bursting out of the door soon as we hit the scrambled eggs. He chatted us up in the high ceiling lobby.
McDonald's Vanilla shake, Quarter Pounder, Filet O Fish, fries all the bad stuff for a fun night in.
The bad thing about local eats is they're hit or miss. We almost caught our spiritual death at the Little Rooster, a small carpeted, no window cafe where deep sadness was born I was sure of it soon as we sat down. The food might have been good but it was so quiet and bleak. No one was talking to each other, just looking down at their food like they'd never left this place. We high tailed it out of there, thank goodness to get cash because the waitress informed us they took 'personal checks' but no credit cards. I laughed and lipped personal checks but she was staring stoned face back at me, so I knew I would not be returning.
Praise be we found a very bright happy Bob's Diner down the road that had a solid Turkey Reuben and bright windows all around. Also a fair haired, clear water blue-eyed boy waiter that we joked about eating his soul like vampires because he seemed so rich in nutrients that we so needed.
Tom on the Taconic all day.
Roadside Pizza. Two things you never eat. Roadside pizza and Chicken Ranch Pizza at a roadside gas station.
Back to Gotham at rush hour. P lost all his Chi on the BQE.
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