Vermont

Last Friday, we picked up a load in a sweet little town named Cavendish, Vermont (pop. 1,300). Getting to it meant driving on winding country roads through meadows and woods on a spectacularly clear sunny day:




Where the old-timers are as cantankerous as I remember:




Keep in mind that Hoss doesn't stop or even slow down when I'm taking pictures. Sometimes, I think he gives the wheel an extra jerk or two while I'm trying to get a shot of something. He does it because he loves me. Or so he says. So here's half of a very old (1844) and very gorgeous stone church:



Those are 32 over 32 windows - very rare, and if you zoom in on the front window, you'll see the wavy nature of original glass. Another stone house built during the same timeframe (but with replacement windows, boo hiss):




This clever fella found a way to keep kids from bashing his mailbox for fun:




The large white building in the left background is the mill where we picked up our freight. It sits on the bank of the Black River, near a one lane bridge:










Most loading docks want you to use wheel chocks to prevent "a rolling event". They're usually triangular blocks of rubber or bolted-together industrial felt, predictably filthy and beat up and useful for no other purpose, yet they're almost always chained to the building to prevent theft. I've apparently underestimated the prevalence of chock larceny. Anyway, this company not only makes their own chocks from 4x4s, but they paint them bright yellow and keep them in a specially built storage bin near the dock's man door:




Vermonters are way cool.