Yesterday was spent in the car as we drove home from Thanksgiving in Vermont. Traveling pros that they are, my kids can handle a ten-and-a-half hour road trip beautifully, with only occasional rounds of iPad gaming and very little complaining or bickering. Winding our way south through the golden light of late fall, we listened to Christmas music and I read A Wind in the Door by Madeline L’Engle aloud. We stopped lunch in the town of Milford, Pennsylvania, a one-time summer retreat on the banks of the Delaware River where last year we discovered a gorgeous little artisanal bakery/café serving to-die-for pastries, soups, rolls, and sandwiches as well as coffee that will bring even the weariest driver strength. The food here is served on deliberately mismatched china, the kind your grandmother used. The boys tucked themselves into a corner table under the stairs and demolished their turkey chowder.
This road trip followed a pleasant week – we started out in Northampton, Massachusetts, where we paid a visit to an old favorite, the Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art; ate what may possibly be the world’s most perfect foodstuff, the carbonara pizza at Pizzera Paradiso; and bumped into old friends from graduate school while purchasing ice cream (mine was Butternut – maple, butter, squash, and spices – oh my!). Then we continued to Vermont where nearly a foot of snow had transformed the landscape suddenly into winter. The boys reveled in the chance to build snowmen, sled, and have snowball fights. Thanksgiving looked like an antique New England postcard and we enjoyed our traditional walk along the Common Road in Waitsfield. There were cows and barns. Later, of course, there was turkey and pie.
Yes this is a blog about family travel, but today I’m happy to say that there’s nothing new to report here. No exploring or doing anything we haven’t done many times in the past. We’ll leave that for another day.