One of my favorite fall memories from childhood is visiting my grandmother in Hoosick Falls. It was about an hour away – which felt like forever when you’re a kid – and it always felt like a long, winding journey with twists and turns, going beside streams and over rivers, crossing bridges and slinking through valleys – the perfect fall escapade for a kid. I would occasionally make some cinnamon apple muffins and pack them into a basket, filling the car with their cozy aroma, and more often than not eating one along the way.
We’d arrive on a Friday and sleep on Gram’s green velvet sofas, and the next morning Mom would drive us all into Vermont, where we would make a stop at the Candle Mill, and dip candles in various colors. Behind the wooden building was a little waterfall and stream with a little area where you could watch the water rushing by. We would always pause for a long time there, and it remains one of my happiest memories.
When Suzie and I were looking for a day trip, I remembered those fall weekends in Vermont. Suzie has ties to Vermont too, and though I knew the Candle Mill had long since closed I was hopeful we could at least stop by the place and see the stream, then head into Manchester for lunch and some shopping.
We arrived in the morning, which was good because the day would soon turn to rain (as it’s been doing since May) and the old Candle Mill looked like a private residence. Two more buildings had been built down beside it (at least they looked new to me) but there was a little parking lot down the road that allowed us to amble up the stream a bit and glimpse the waterfall in the distance. It was exactly as I remembered it, and nothing like I remembered it, if that makes any sense. It had been almost four decades since I was last in this space, and Vermont holds more ghosts for me and Suzie now than it once did. Still, it felt peaceful and calm, and the quiet morning was a welcome get-away form the stresses of work and reality.
From there we stopped for a coffee and some breakfast, the former of which Suzie mostly gave to her pants, while the latter was some banana bread I’d made the night before – another echo of childhood traditions. Yes, these were the same pants Suzie wore on our summer trip to Boston, as evidenced in this post. But they worked, and she found a Pendleton coat that matched them precisely. More on that in a separate post, as a Suzie Fashion Show is a rare occurrence that must be honored accordingly.
We made a few shopping stops, notably at the Marimekko outlet where Suzie found part of. possible wedding outfit and I found an apron. More on that later too. The rain had arrived – heavy and annoying and seemingly only wherever we went. We chose The Copper Grouse at the Taconic Hotel for our lunch, had a cozy lunch by the window while a fireplace crackled across the room, and made a new fall memory.
