Posted by: dougery | October 17, 2011

Quintessentially New England

This weekend my younger brother and his girlfriend came to visit and do some seasonal New Englandy / Berkshiresian activities such as driving around and looking at decaying organic matter dangling from trees and the purchasing of other, not as yet decayed organic matter recently harvested.

I gave them just enough time to drop their overnight bags in our guest room (which is also our living room, music room and tv room, not to mention library and crematorium, er, never mind that last bit) around 11am before we all piled into my brother’s car. Just prior to leaving my brother dug a football out from within the spare tire in his car’s trunk and I was all Aaron Rodgers to his Jermichael Finley if A-Rod had a noodle arm and was only accurate up to about 20 yards. Still I was able to put some touch on a few passes that my brother showboated into behind the back one-hand grabs because I hate how athletic he is.*

We then drove to Whitney Farm for lunch where afterward my brother bought pumpkins he assured me he was going to drive back to Boston with but which he all along intended to give us. Like all of the gifts he has ever given me, I intend to disembowel these, carve them into hideous shapes, and put live flames inside. You know, as a token of my gratitude. Giant orange vegetables in hand we decided to go and pick other, smaller, more reddish almost-vegetables from a neighboring apple orchard where roughly 1 billion apples cost about .10 cents. Apple varieties all sound like styles of clothing to me: macoun, macintosh, gala, cider donut, etc.**

Apples and pumpkins secured, the 4 of us (oh yeah, i suppose I should mention my wife came along too, oops, sorry woman i chose from all women to spend my entire life with) then drove up bookish Mt. Greylock since it was raining and all of our hiking boots are in the shop. There are some views up atop Greylock. There are some views.

At home we had a few hours to kill before our Dinner in town so my brother and I played a video game (what my wife calls ‘Bibble Bubble’) while the girls played 1960s homemakers and made us a pie, dammit. We’re all quite progressive. We also called them ‘Dame’ and ‘Broad’ while they wore dresses and were careful not to show off too much ankle.

The following morning we drove to L’s favorite breakfast joint Elmer’s before saying goodbye to our guests. Which was just as well seeing as, and I now have a theory for this, when we got back to our driveway later that night, a family of bears were hanging out waiting to sup on city-slickers. Disappointed that our yellow Jeep merely held the tough, weathered flesh of us rugged country-mice, the bears ran up into the forest. So yes, just as we were visited by bears right after Sensei and Ayako dropped by from Chicago, so too were we invaded right after the Bostonians left. Not that these were very frightening bears, as two very small cubs ran off right away while a small mama bear stood up on its hind legs looking for my brother who, to bears I guess, must smell delicious.

*I don’t actually hate how athletic my brother is. It is more like ‘simmering jealousy’. I kid.

**You should know all males participating in these events were dressed in flannel. We don’t half-ass the New England mountain experience, people.



  1. Thanks for the mention, man. However belated. And I guess I like the rest of this post, too.

  2. I hate how often y’all get to see bears.* This summer we spent 4 days in your bear-infested dell and then 12 days camping in Alaska, and our cumulative bear-sighting total was one measly grizzly off in the distance.**

    *I actually hate this. Not simmering jealousy. HATE.
    **This does not count Melty Bear or the “Sexy Bear of Sagautuck, Michigan,” which I think is the Midwest’s answer to Melty Bear in terms of “disturbing bear statues in pleasant areas.” I will post photos of the Sexy Bear of Sagautuck on mine blog or FB soon, for your amusement/horror.

  3. Oh Melty Bear. If ever the murderer from the Scream movies and a Kodiac ever had a love child, or nightmare child to be more accurate, Melty Bear would be it.

    can’t wait to see the sexy bear of Sagautuck, Michigan.

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