Fog shrouds the road, rolling in from Lake Champlain and smelling like farm. At 7 a.m. on a cool, late-summer morning, as we roll east through the cornfields on Vermont 17, I can barely see our destination rising through a pearl-gray sky. Even the sun looks tired.
I am not a morning person. Coffee helps dispel some of the fog. My husband, who’s far more awake — awake enough to have made the coffee — is driving.
Why, oh why, did I get up this early on the weekend?... Read more