How You Going to Keep Me Out Of Downtown - Now that I've Seen Poultney?

And so begins a mini series blog that starts with a  bit of a confession. When I was in my twenties and thirties - life was about great clothes, places to go, great hairstyles and fabulous food. I lived in the Boston area and then Boston proper  paying too much for parking since I was not about to take the "T" into the city and risk the smelly underground stations and where I often kept tags on my dresses to wear them once then return them for something new - after all - did not want to be seen in the same outfit twice. I mostly ate out - rarely cooked and drank cognac in fancy bars.

But after a move to Northern California where I became the owner of a very large Newfoundland dog - things began to change. The side of my closet with dog park clothes grew - and by the time I made it back to New England to live - my closet was ALL dog park clothes with absolutely nothing fitted or fancy - just practical and almost uniformesque with my field vests with myriad pockets for dog treats and toys and poop bags to my LL Bean classic overalls (which they since discontinued - I am in mourning over this still). Work boots and sub zero clothing replaced heels and pencil skirts.

I live on 10.1 acres in a small town in Southwestern Vermont called Poultney. I share my life with three cats, two dogs (a Newf and a lab) and a large array of wildlife that usually stays out of the house - but not always. I have a friend in Los Angeles with whom I speak about once a month. She always says to me that she thinks I am living the dream country life most people want - and how idillic it is with a garden and fields and deer in the front yard when I wake each morning. Some of it is - I do agree with her. But there is that real side to life that I just cannot get through to her about - like the resent rabbit invasion (how cute, she says) or the snakes that like to slide through the gasket on the garage door and hang out the ends as I try to pull up the door by hand to get the mower out to mow for four and a half hours in 80 - 90% humidity.

So these next blogs are all with my LA friend in mind - who showed up here a while back  in lovely snake skin pointy toed shoes and expected to be able to go for a walk around the property with me and my newfs (she ended up waiting back at the house). Stay tuned...