Arriving At Point B

It had been a fine morning of coffee and catching up on this and that, but not the other thing.  Then off to the Frog Pond for a frittata of note, and to admire the Ramon Santiago originals decorating the place.  But more importantly, we were meeting with seldom-seen friends who happened to be in town for a wedding.

Do frogs enjoy a good breakfast
after a night out?

The waitress was kind and the place was not at capacity, so there was no compulsion to leave immediately after the bill was paid.  If not so full from our late breakfast, the time in residence could have also included lunch.  How wonderful to speak for hours without noticing how much time has passed.

At least one gem made it to the little book.  "If you're just a little bit ahead of the curve, they call you a genius.  But if you're way out in front, you're a crazy man."  Unmentioned are those of us spending most of our time trying to locate the curve.

As with all good things, the end or our conversations arrived, so we took the selfie, bid our adieus, and headed in opposite directions.  But not before promising to visit!

Maybe we shouldn't have been looking directly into the sun,

but it really highlights the blonde hair, don't you think?

Back home, we took care of the other thing, grabbed the dog, and were quickly on our way to the Adirondacks.  The drive was not bad.  Only 2 "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? incidents, and 4 proclamations of "LEARN TO DRIVE!"

We pulled in late in the afternoon.  How nice to have a welcoming committee.

Here is the committee.
As with most such organizations,
they can't agree on where they're headed.

A tad chilly the previous evening.
The sun does not reach through the hemlocks well enough
to remove the dusting.

Summer may be over.

The routine upon arrival is to unload and scurry around furiously making sure that all is in place for relaxing.  Hurry up and relax!

Worried that a harder freeze was coming, I took the time to dig up the parsley, sage, rosemary and chives from the garden.  Snug underground, the potatoes can wait 'til tomorrow.  Too late for the tomatoes.   

And you thought the comment was figurative.

Latter day potatoes.

Shortly before the sun called it a day, a hardy neighbor paddled by.  Not sure how much fun he was having since the cold wind was rising out of the west, his homeward direction.

The lone hardy kayaker paddles toward the setting sun.
Gloves and hat and parka-like life-vest required.

A little later, a touch of red graces the clouds.
Water level down for the winter, the true channel shows itself.

Darkness came, and we settled into point B.  But in rank-ordering the personal points in the world, one must wonder if this is really Point B anymore.