Vermont, where I make friends with pigs.


As we were leaving Lake Champlain behind…




We (read, the husband) took a wrong turn. How this is possible when I’m constantly pointing and screaming  “LEFT!”  or  “RIGHT”  at the top of my lungs I really don’t know, but it happens.

So where did he choose to turn around?





In a field full of pigs.







Why yes, yes I am.

And when I rolled down my window to say hello,  all his brothers and sisters came running out of the woods.

**Note to self – Add Pig Whisperer to resume.**




Driving south through Burlington to eat at a restaurant the husband remembered, we passed this.




Yes, those are fire hydrants.




Though, as usual… the husband was driving too fast for me to get a good picture. But apparently this is a famous sculpture in those parts and a bit of a tourist attraction.

Ah, Vermont. Ya gotta love it.

Arriving at the Windjammer after lunch but before dinner  (4:00)  we weren’t allowed to sit in the dining room and had to go upstairs to the bar where I had the worst cranberry orange mule imaginable. Blech. Pink dishwater…




There was also a limited ‘in between’ menu which always ticks me off. If you’re open? Serve. If you don’t want to serve? Close. It’s a simple concept.

I was starving from missing lunch and ordered the rather interesting sounding meatloaf.




Naturally I wanted mashed potatoes with it…  I mean, hello? It’s meatloaf!

But since it was 4:00? No dice. (Or potatoes.)

I settled for broccoli.



Sadly, no. I’m not.





Order placed, we clomped downstairs to the salad bar which was shaped like a ship.






Isn’t it just.




The salad bar was mediocre, nothing to write home about… but the meals? Lord love a duck, they were horrible. The husband didn’t eat his Shephards Pie, it was as dry as the Sahara and while I tried to struggle through the pasty, how can it be this tasteless meatloaf, I gave up rather quickly and ended up having a plate of broccoli.

No pictures…




You really weren’t. Management took it off our bill, but I really have nothing good to say about that place.

As we drove back to the resort to pick through left overs in the fridge, I made the husband slow down so I could take a few quick pics of the fabulous silo that greets you when you come into the town.





How fun is that?







19 thoughts on “Vermont, where I make friends with pigs.”

  1. There is something about the composition of that pig photo that makes me think of the infamous video of Bigfoot walking (That’s actually what I thought it was from the thumbnail in my Reader). I don’t think that was taken in Vermont, though…

    Liked by 1 person

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