Month: December 2025

Back in 1959, a not-so-young folk singer named Pete Seeger borrowed some verses from the Bible (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8) and used them as the basis for a song that we now all know. Sung at countless weddings and funerals, and popularized by the Byrd’s in 1965, Turn, Turn, Turn has become a staple of accepting and understanding that all occurrences have, and go in and out of, their Season.

                        For us, this chant could not be more true.

                        ‘A time to drive and a time to pull over’

                        ‘A time to Walmart and a time to Campground’

                        ‘A time for ‘singing’ tires and a time for slow driving’

                                    And now…..

                        ‘A time to visit and a time to throw in the frozen towel’.

            For all the right reasons, we elected to toss some carefully considered caution to the winds and drive our Home northward for this Season. We weighed all the factors, positive and negative, and after figuring out that:

                                    Most NJ winters don’t usually ‘start’ until later.

                                    It almost NEVER snows for Christmas

                                    And even if it does, the temps are usually mild

                                                Plus…

                                    Flying during this time of year can be a challenge, and once we arrived there would be the need to rent a car for almost a month (BIG bucks!), kindly accept the many offers we had to ‘stay at our place’ which would be fine as there were many and we hopefully would not stay too long at any one hospitable location, but, we’d still need to find vittles as it would not be acceptable for any of our host’s to always feed us!

                        So….. after weighing all of these factors (and many more minuscule ones) we decided to pull up the chassis jacks, drop ‘er into ‘Drive’, and head North.

                        That first encounter with Miss ‘Temps that Haunt You’ when it dropped to 9 degrees in Tennessee on our second day on the road, should have been an Indicating Factor that we had maybe made the wrong decision. But that dye had been cast and after our frozen brakes were duly repaired, we forged on, hoping against hope that our fortune, and the weather, would take a turn for the better.

                        It did not and we didn’t either.

                        You all know how much we love living in our Rolling Castle, but we do need to admit that these Shoeboxes on Wheels are really not designed for extended stays in frigid climates.

                        We tried our best, we kept our water hose drained and in the warm so that we could just string it out, fill our tank, and use the 90 gallons that are tucked away in our belly. The reverse is a little more challenging as those 90 gallons (plus ‘other things’) turns into even more waste and that needs to be periodically emptied. Well, we cannot keep ‘those’ hoses inside with us, so frigid, frozen, unyielding (think your garden hose but 10 times wider) left outside in the winter and you are going to try and use it! Oops!

                        Then there is just the basic Coldness. We have heat but our propane tank is only 23 gallons, large enough for cooking and hot water, but definitely not large enough to keep us warm for this extended time period. So, we have several of those small ceramic electric heaters strategically placed. These require that item that we have all come to take for granted, Mr. Electricity.

                        This is the element that brought us to the Point of No Return, or that Frozen Towel that was introduced a few paragraphs ago.

                        We took the motorhome over to our favorite Fixers, Campbell’s in Lafayette yesterday for some maintenance and when we returned and set ourselves back up here at Yetter’s, well let’s just say that the term “All Hell Broke Loose” came with its own manifestation of that most highly regarded aspect of that Netherworld….. FIRE!

                        I plugged us back into our 50amp service and went inside. Glancing out the window I spied the telltale signs of Things Gone Wrong. Smoke! By the time I exited, the power cord was putting on its own display of Holiday Lights complete with magnificent arcing, sparks galore, and Flames of Significant Proportions, as the wire itself caught fire and proceeded to melt nicely.

                        We do have multiple fire extinguishers readily available, and one was duly emptied onto the offending power cord with the desired results. But, alas, it was too late to save that plug and receptacle and they lay melted in the middle of the grass, never to be used again.

                        Unfortunate?…… undoubtably.

                        Traumatic?……. you betcha!

            This was our Hour of Reckoning. We had already seen the upcoming 10-Day Forecast, and it did not look promising, especially in the temp’s department. The thought of running the generator for that whole time was daunting, but I had already ordered a replacement plug from Amazon (hopefully here today) but still, that event took the wind out of our already slackened and frozen sails.

                        Summoning our chilly wits about us, we could hear Mr. Seeger softly singing a new verse in his Divinely Inspired song…..

“A time to stay and a time to go home”

                        We are taking their collective advice.

                        Now, borrowing a quote from another famous person, General Douglas MacArthur… “I (we 😊) shall return”!

Just like the swallows retuning to San Jaun Capistrano, come April (!) we will be rolling back up here and hopefully the Northeast will have been released from the clutches of Mama Natura and we won’t have any issues!

Because Claire in Minnesota told me that she needed an Update on our current condition…..

After two days of questionable luck, we arrived safely at Brian and April’s new home in Appomattox with no further trauma or drama. And because it was only about an hour and a half away, we decided not to hitch the Honda to the back of the motorhome. This facilitated a number of things…. it allowed me to pull into a fuel station of my choosing without worrying about the space needed for this giant bus and its tag-along. I still needed to service the hitch apparatus and it’s easier to do that when we’re parked somewhere where we won’t be in the way for a while, hence their driveway works just fine. And finally, without the car behind (and Paula sitting next to me!) I was able to really test out the repairs that were done on our air braking sysytem….. you know, I really put her through her paces! I was able to take corners on two wheels without Paula screaming in fright, I did a series of those high-speed, jam on the brakes, swing the wheel around, kind of turns that you see in good chase scenes on TV, and then to finish it off, the high-speed, straight line, jam on the brakes, and see if I can keep the whole thing going in that straight line.

The fact that I am seated here writing this Update will be proof enough that I was successful in all that was attempted! Except all that High-Speed stuff…. the fact that I am here is proof that I drove in the old Granny style that I usually do. If we want to make good time, Paula is the far better driver in getting us from A to B. DO NOT get in her way!

Our next (and final) stop will be in our reserved parking spot at Yetter’s Diner, Holiday Campground, and Taylor Ham, Egg, and Cheese Emporium in downtown Augusta, New Jersey! With any amount of luck that will be later on this afternoon as it is a relatively short jaunt to Northern New Jersey from here. We are planning on a (no-more-than) 9-hour excursion.

            Dateline: Roanoke, Virginia, in the parking lot of the Excel Truck Group, 3:05 AM     

I feel like I’m writing a Serial Piece as this will seem to be just a continuation of yesterday. Here goes:

                        “When we last left our Wayfaring Wanderers, they were trying to escape the grip of Mother Nature who was really pissed off because someone had left the freezer door open all night! This setting not only affected our heroes’ batteries but there was even more mayhem afoot as we check in on them today…. “

When using the term “On the Hook” in an idiomatic way, it usually refers to being responsible for something, especially something financial and/or being caught in a vulnerable / tense / dangerous situation.

                        In our lucky case we hit the Trifecta of Definitions because we are able to add a THIRD definition to this phrase using it as we transfer to a literal meaning …… you guessed it!

                                    Being ‘Towed” from the side of road! (Plus, in this case we get to retain the two previous definitions too, because this turned into a definitely tense/dangerous, and financially disruptive situation!)

                        And you thought that yesterday’s Post about Frosty Windshields was of questionable genesistical reporting!

            Scenario: Cold (very, as previously reported)….. this adverse condition had yet another victim waiting in the long shadows of a wintery day’s early morning hours …… our Brakes.

            “Ah, com’on Donny, we all drive around all day long in cold weather and we never have any ‘brake’ issues! They work just fine!”

            Well, that may be fine for you Mr. ‘Stopping Systems R’ Us’, but we use “Air Brakes” not the brake fluid type that you all use. This means that periodically moisture enters the system in the form of condensation, and we now understand what happens to said condensation when it encounters some really low temps!

                                    It freezes!

                                    And what do you think may be the bane of an ‘Air Brake’ system? Yup! Clogged (with ice) air lines and/or components of that system.

                                    “Well Donny, did you slam into the rear of that 18-wheeler in front of you? Or careen off of the side of the Interstate in one of those long, crazy turns in Virginia?

                        Sorry to disappoint you Mr. ‘Looking on the Bright Side’…. fortunately, we were able to discover this current malady before we ended up in the local papers.

                        As you may imagine, there are some gauges on the dash that monitor this brake system. We usually have well over 100 psi in the system. I noticed yesterday that we were lower, down around 75 or so. Being the worry-wort that I am, (you know, the guy hurtling down the road with the 28,000-pound rolling brick and a little car tagging along behind it) I called my “All Things Truck Related” Life-Line…. he is a former Over the Road Tractor-Trailer Driver, neighbor and all-around good guy with a very nice name…… Don (!)

                        He obviously always has good, solid advice for us.

                        He did not sound encouraging.

                        He told us that if that pressure drops to around 60 psi, then the brakes will automatically lock up and bring us to a (literal) screeching halt. Because….. that’s better than letting any more air escape to the point where you (us!) actually have ZERO stopping power and the Fred Flintstone maneuver just isn’t enough to bring us safely to the side of the road.

                        So, before we did any of the previously mentioned negativity we pulled over on the shoulder of I-81, just south of Roanoke, Virginia. A flurry of phone calls ensued…. first to Don, then to my guy Corbin up at Campbell’s in Lafayette (our repair facility) then to Andrew at the local Roanoke Freightliner fixers, and finally to the guy at Brown’s Towing who dispatched Ethan in one of those giant “Ice Road Truckers” trucks to save us. All of these guys were a pleasure to deal with, especially Ethan who needed to crawl under our motorhome, take apart the driveshaft and remove some other pieces of equipment that had the possibility of getting mushed when we were put ‘on the hook’.

                        Just an aside here: You will have tons more consideration for the broken-down vehicle on the side of a highway after you endure the whoooosh of the passing trucks and cars yourself! We always try to move over a lane when we see someone on the side of the road. You will notice all truck drivers do because they have experienced this at least once in their careers and it’s not fun. In fact, it’s downright uncomfortable! Never mind the safety factor! Unless of course, the traffic is considerable and there is no time/room to make that move over one lane then it’s just ‘hold on tight’!            

                                    That was our case yesterday. Unfortunately, soon after we pulled over, someone behind us opened the floodgates and poured so much additional traffic onto the highway that it was impossible for anyone to make their “Courtesy Move-Over” without putting their neighbor into the concrete median. So ‘rock on!’ was our mantra until Ethan hooked us up and extricated us from that situation. We followed our Home on Wheels as it was towed away and stopped when it was deposited at the Freightliner fixer, Excel Truck Group.

                        Now the third part of our Trifecta comes into play….. the financial one! We all know that dispatching a tow truck is a rather expensive deal. How about dispatching the giant ‘truck-that-can-tow-another-truck’ truck? Yea…. add some more to that estimate! It’s $450.00 per hour, three-hour minimum. Oh well, at least we are now safe in the parking lot of Excel Truck Group where they let us spend the night. They were closing up when we arrived, so we’re on the docket for this morning, but there are a few customers in front of us.

                        Stay tuned for the further adventures of Paula and Don in their continuing saga of Highways to Hell (and back)!

                        Hmm…. I wonder if I can get a credit for Overnight Parking Lot Surveillance because I haven’t slept a wink. Nah…. probably not, I should be thankful that they didn’t charge us for an over-night stay!

P.S.  As I write this, that Battery System is giving me fits, I’m glad(?) that I’m awake to monitor the issue. If it turns out to be any more calamitous than just batteries (like a new Inverter!) you will be able to hear our collective screams from the comfort of your own homes, wherever you may be!

Decision, decisions, decisions…..

                        Sometimes I wonder if the quandaries served up by the making of, or the lack thereof, those conclusions or resolutions (hopefully arrived at after careful consideration) prove themselves worth their final outcome.

                        I am quite sure that this will be the case, but this exercise is becoming a test in itself of this process as we are “Low Clearance” overpass high in said accumulated issues (?).

           “What in the name all that’s confusing are you talking about Donny?”

            Hmmm…. Yes, I can see where you may need an explanation of the current dilemma that sparked that diminutive diatribe.

                        Last year, as you may recall, we were down at the tip of South America for Christmas. This is their ‘summer’ down there and we were enjoying yet an additional ‘Longest Day of the Year’ on December 21^st and the accompanying nice, balmy temperatures whilst aboard the Majestic Princess as she sailed the complete circumference of South America.

                        Nice.

                        But to be honest, we did miss being at home with everyone at Christmas. Facetiming and gloating about those balmy breezes gets you just so far in feeling good…..until you close that call and wish you were home.

                        So! This year, come the proverbial ‘Hell or High Water’ we made sure that we would be back in the old neighborhood for all the right reasons. Getting there was the issue, and the “Decisions” that subsequently followed were the bane of our collective existences (so far) but the rewards of this trek will more than suffice for the efforts. I will let my friend Billy Shakespeare take it for a minute….

                To drive, or not to drive, that is the question:

Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous road rages

Or to use credit cards against a sea of airline tickets

And by opposing this decision, end them. To drive—to sleep,

On the road, in a now frozen motorhome

No more? Nay, and by a sleep to say we end

The heartache and the thousand natural shocks that

Come from deteriorating roadways!

That question is heir to: ’tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wished. To Fly?, to sleep.

To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there’s the rub:

For in that sleep of at least an Aisle Seat, what dreams may come!

To grunt and sweat under a weary life of dubious automotive electrical systems.

But that the dread of something after death,

(the death of a bank of RV batteries)

The undiscovered auto parts store, from whose bourn

No traveler returns, except the lucky one with the correct tools and parts…. It puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know of?

Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of that dubious thought,

“We should have bought the stinkin’ tickets and be done with it!”

And enterprises of great soul and freezing moments

Spent astride a calamitous auto tow-bar device.

With this regard their currents turn awry

And possibly, lose the name of action.

Action???!!!

We’ve had plenty of action and we’re only two days into this foray!

             No heat coming from the dashboard system.

             Having to run the generator almost full time in order to keep the little ceramic heaters going that are pointed at us up front.

             Worrying about the 90 gallons of water that travels with us, never mind the ‘other’ tanks of a dubious nature that need periodic emptying!

             And we still have the next month or so to spend in the Northern Climes of the USA while we visit with friends and loved ones.

                      For the most part, actually, the WHOLE part, motorhomes, etc. are not equipped for extended cold weather running. The walls are about an inch thick, the systems are barely weather resistant, never mind proof!

All of this was carefully considered, debated, talked about, and harangued over before we made that decision to drive.

We based our final decision on the Law of Averages.

   Ha! That Law went out our proverbial frosted windows after the second night on the road when it dropped to 12 degrees (nope, I just checked again… it is now 9 degrees) in Tennessee!

             Now, this is mid-December, we’re still in ‘Autumn’ not mid-January or February!

Mr. ‘Law of Averages’ took a powder, and I think he booked out on this year’s South America cruise!

                      Today we will stop in Appomattox, Virgina to spend a day or so with Paula’s son Brain and his wife April. They just finished a brand spankin’ new house that they nicely considered us travelers and had a ‘full hook-up’ parking space installed! We may never leave! At least this will give me a place (besides a Walmart Parking lot) to check the offending batteries and probably procure some new ones. We will need maybe the full four. These are the guys that let us run electrical items (of a not huge nature) like lights, TV, microwave without running the generator, until they power down and need recharging. Our current ones are feeling the effects of our frequency of using them and have given up.

                      Or so it seems. Only a Test will tell, and my Official Tester is officially on the fritz, otherwise we would have already surmised this before we left. Ha! famous ‘Last Words’.

                      To be fair, there were other factors taken into account in order to come to our present predicament, ahh, I mean scenario.

   We would have had to rent a car for about a month, and those days of the $29.99 a-day-rentals are far behind us, never mind finding a place to sleep at this time of the year! Just ask Joseph and Mary! We did have several offers of homes to frequent while we were here but as the plaque over the pilot and co-pilot’s seats in the Motorhome says…. ‘There’s No Place Like Home!’

                                And that is exactly why we’re on our way!

                      God willin’ an’ the creek don’t rise……

And the temps don’t fall….

          And the batteries behave….

                   And …….

You will all need to put your Thinking Caps on and remember back a few years to a Post from Mason City, Iowa (Archives: April 2021) that had to do with Frank Lloyd Wright. Now I know that all of you have heard of this famous architect, and I am sure that most of you would be able to identify his most iconic designs, further, I hope that some of you will bear with me here and learn a little more about one of his favorite places on the planet and luckily for us, it is right here in the Phoenix area.

A little background is in order here, a perspective if you will, for understanding FLW only comes with knowing about his passion for his craft and the tenets that he prescribed to when putting pencil to paper, ultimately arriving at an incredible apex of a design that was at the same time unique, and/but totally identifiable as one of his.

One of our side trips while we are out here brought to Taliesin West. (pronounced Tally-es-inn) Taliesin (East) is FLW’s home/studio in Wisconsin where he resided in the early to mid-1900’s. Taliesin West was conceived in 1927 when FLW was out here working as a consultant on the Arizona Biltmore Hotel in the then sleepy (but rapidly developing) town of Phoenix. FLW had started a ‘school’ of sorts for budding architects. He called it the ‘Fellowship’ and these architects stayed with FLW both up in Wisconsin and then later down in Phoenix where thy all aided in the design and construction of a camp which eventually became Taliesin West. For obvious reasons, wintering in this area was far more preferable than in Wisconsin and summering up there was obviously the reverse. FLW originally set up Taliesin as the aforementioned ‘camp’ which meant that his designs and buildings were meant to be ‘struck’ during the summer when they went back North. Hence the original roofs were made of canvas, which he liked and there were no windows per se, as no glass was incorporated in the original designs. FLW loved the way that the natural light came down through the canvas and provided a slightly tinted, diffused lighting source for the workspaces occupied by himself and his ‘Fellowship’.

We need to know and just basically understand FLW’s Four Principles of Architecture, no worries, they are simple in both concept and incorporation….

            The Destruction of the Box  – Open Concept (wouldn’t Chip, Joanna, and the Property Brother’s be pleased!)

            The Nature of the Site – fully integrate the building with its surroundings as not to ‘compete’ with said placement.

            The Nature of the Materials – if possible, use the building materials that present themselves from the site. In addition, this rock, timber, wood, stone, concrete, etc. should be used honestly, revealing their inherent qualities rather than being disguised, creating a sense of authenticity and connection to nature.

            Designing for Democracy – FLW believed everyone deserved beautiful living environments, aiming to provide affordable, well-designed homes that offered shelter and a higher quality of life. 

            The time spent here at Taliesin West was a highly social affair, tea was served daily for everyone as they gathered together in one of the dedicated areas/’rooms’ and as the ‘Fellowship’ grew in numbers, the areas used for meetings, lectures, and even movie nights, grew in proportion to those new needs. But…… each one was carefully designed with both purpose and aesthetic design in mind.

            I’m going to end the ‘Lecture’ here and move on to some photos that will hopefully illustrate some of his design parameters and techniques. As much as I am a fan and admirer of Frank Lloyd Wright, to be honest, if it weren’t for the Guided Audio Tour, I would have missed out on a lot of translating his designs into obvious observations. Luckily while we were there we picked up from the Bookstore, a very comprehensive guide to all of his projects around both the USA and the World, so in about, say, another thirty years or so, I should be a Master FLW World Guide.

Operators are standing by so please start booking your FLW Tours with me ASAP as I am quite sure that they will fill up quickly!

I know that this is confusing, but yes, we are in Phoenix.

Hey Donny, we just read your last Post, and you were in Vermont! It was like yesterday! How’d ya do that?

            Well, the answer is quite simple, I didn’t finish that Vermont Post until I was already down here and there were only three days between me landing back in Houston and then the two of us taking off from the same three days later.

            Oh. Ok…..that ‘spains it.

Now that we have that settled, yes, we are in delightfully nice and sunny Southern Arizona visiting Steve and Phillis who we were supposed to visit in Montana (along with a bunch of other folks along the way) this past September when our usual Far Western Foray was severely truncated as we needed to get back to Texas more sooner than later for raisons mèdicales. We are the proud consumers of services of Doctor’s Unlimited because we have full access to the Phine Physicians of both Texas and New Jersey! And Medicare is accepted no matter where we go!

So we are down here for a few days with Steve and Phillis, just catching up. But have no fear…..I do have a few tid-bits for you!

First, I thought that I had informed you all that I have a nifty new lens for my camera, but looking back over the past few Posts I see that I have neglected to inform you of this Highly Significant Procuration! It is a Canon 100/400 Zoom with Image Stabilization, and it is the variation that is at the top of their quality tier. I obviously don’t need this for regular landscape pic’s, but it sure has been a boost to some long-distance critter pic’s that you will soon see! Having the Iceland/Svalbard trip coming up in July, with the extremely good possibility of some good Polar Bear and Walrus sightings…… well, hopefully it can make the difference between a fuzzy “Is that a smear on my lens?” photo and a “Holy Smokes! I can see the reflections of those screaming tourists in his eyes!” photos.

            We (the collective we) shall see.

Until then, here are the fruits of the past few days.

Another Adventure of Measurable Proportions was our experience with WAYMO. This is one of those driverless/taxi/Uber type vehicles that you summon with an app.

This spooky thing arrives at your doorstep, invites you into its lair, locks the door and cackles evilly as you pull away at breakneck speeds and it doesn’t even wait for you to put your seatbelt on as it takes corners on almost two wheels because it needs to get you to your destination in order to quickly eject you from its innards so that it can zoom away in a cloud of dust and smoke in order to arrive to where it gets to trap its next victim.

Well….. something like that….. except no high speeds, no adverse cornering, and no cackling, just nice music playing that she asks you what you’d like to listen to while she navigates the crowded city streets in perfect safety, anticipating every move several steps ahead its initiation.

In other words…. Boring.

If you are looking for an exciting transit of a metropolitan area do not take a driverless vehicle. For an adventurous ride may I suggest a jaunt in a good ol’ Yellow Cab on the streets of NYC! Now we’re talkin’!

“Hey! I’m walkin’ here!”

(WHERE?)

My most favoritest thing is when we travel and stumble on something especially unique….. and I get to share it with all of you. My only trepidation in these moments is that I do not fully convey the uniqueness of my discovery to all of you, and you end up scratching your collective heads in wonderment saying to yourselves, “So….what’s so special here Mr. Traveling Troubadour?”

Please read on and hopefully I am not deficient in my aspirations of said conveying!

First, the obligatory Back Story!

I took a brief trip last week up to Manchester-by-the-Sea to visit with my son Donny and his family. A nice, direct flight from Houston dropped me at Boston’s Logan Airport a little over three hours later. A short taxi ride brought me to Donny’s office in downtown Boston where we met. I hitched a ride to MBTS with him on his ride home.

            We spent a few days there until Wednesday when we gathered the ‘Exited from School for Thanksgiving’ kids and drove three hours north to their ski-house in Vermont for the remainder of the Holiday.

            Vermont is one of those places that revels in its own identity and guards said personality with the fervor of an Olympic Skier trying to eke out another 100^th of a second in order to win. Skiing in Vermont borders on a religion and while the neighboring New England states all have excellent ski areas, you have to admit that when someone mentions Vermont, the first thing that comes to mind is skiing, or maybe Maple Syrup if your thoughts travel there at Breakfast Time!

            Skiing is what brought Donny and Hilary to Vermont in the first place and to the ‘once-was-so-but-now-not-so’ sleepy little village of Stowe in particular. Donny worked at the Ski Area while Hilary was employed by the von Trapp family. Yes…. that von Trapp family…. The one with the world-renowned Lodge where the Sound of Music is the benchmark by which all other movies are judged and judging by the decades of throngs of admirers of that movie, their take on that is not that far off!

            The secret to understanding Vermont is to get away from the Resorts and their masses. Now to be fair, if you are going there to ski, then being slope-side is the epitome of convenience ….. you are smack-dab in the middle of all of the action, and it can get crazy! But if you want to experience Vermont then you need to snake your way around the back roads and chance upon little hamlets and towns, of which, thankfully, there is a plethora of.

            The folks in Vermont may be a tad laid back, but they are not fools….. they do realize that there are those who travel to their state for this back-country charm and experience. That’s why you won’t find any billboards in the state and why some towns even limit the kind of signage allowed. (Think wooden, carved and painted, signage being preferred) There is absolutely nothing garish about this State and that’s the way they want it.

            It was on one of these sojourns into the wilds that we came upon the little town of Johnson. Johnson started back in the mid-1700’s as a town decreed by Royal Charter by King George III. Along came the Revolution, Mr. William Samuel Johnson attended all, and was particularly effective in, all of the Constitutional Conventions, and all four Founding Congress’s. He was particularly sympathetic to some issues having to do with Vermont, so when it was all said and done, they named a town after him! So ever since 1785, this hamlet has been known as Johnson.

            ‘So Donny, that’s it? All of this hoopla for a little town in Vermont?’

            No! No! It’s what’s in Johnson that is so special! And this one is coming up on almost 200 years old….. same business, same location, and in reality, the same family at the beginning and now! Started in 1816 and officially founded in 1842, Johnson Woolen Mills is the pride and joy of its namesake town and with excellent reason.

            You don’t get to hang around that long unless you are good. One turn around the Sales Floor located just below the loft where all of the sewing machines and patterns are used, will convince you that these are goods that can be the benchmark for everyone else’s products. I always thought that Pendleton was the standard by which all of the others was measured, and it is good stuff, but….. check out the label…. Hmmm, where is this made? Oh, I see…. Vietnam. Ok, that in itself does not mean that it is inferior to anyone else’s product, it’s just that it means that it’s not made here, in our very own USA. To be fair, Pendleton’s blankets are still domestically made, but practically everything else is imported.

            Now, by contrast and comparison, Johnson Woolen Mills products are all made right there in Vermont using domestic wool and if you go upstairs on a weekday, you will find good ol’ Aunt Mabel sitting behind her sewing machine assembling what are considered the “Best Woolen Trousers in the World.” The remainder of the employees are busy creating the rest of Johnson Woolen Mill’s assemblage of apparel.

            When we arrived in the store that morning, we were enthusiastically greeted by Alexalee who was behind the counter. The kids scattered, each in search of the treasures that would soon be theirs. I did a brief circuit of the store, looked at what was offered, saw that each item had a label stitched onto it proudly proclaiming its Vermont pedigree and assemblage. Now I’m all in! Scurrying back to the front of the store, I confronted Alexalee.

                        “Are all of these items made here in Vermont?”

                                    “Yup.”

                        “Do you have a factory somewhere?”

                                    “Yup.”

                        “Where is it located?”

                                    “Upstairs.”

                        “Up there”? (an incredulous me pointing to the ceiling.)

                        “All this stuff” ???!!!

                                    “Yup.”

            It was then that Alexalee’s smile broadened even more than when she first greeted us. She could tell that she had one hooked, and giving me just enough line to further our conversation, she proceeded to reel me in with each of her following sketches and descriptions of the way it is, and more importantly, the way it was. I learned how many of her past relatives worked at the Mill and how important this enterprise is for the town, not just for employment, but for the collective self-esteem that is quite evident.

            I asked a little more about the History and Alexalee toured me around the store and explained the historic photos that adorned the walls. She then handed me a several-pages long copy of the local Historical Society’s missive on the Mill. Flipping through it I realized that this was exactly what I needed! Asking if there were copies of it available, Alexalee announced, “Sure! We have a copier!” And just like that I had my very own definitive work on the History of Johnson Woolen Mills.

            I had been searching for something to write a Post about, as I was Traveling, but writing about “I went to Vermont, and it was snowing”  was obviously not good enough. I am hoping 😊 that this short tale fills the bill and is interesting enough!

            I guess what really hit me was that this is a family-owned-and-operated business. For those of you that have known me since the Chatterbox days you know how important family run businesses are to me and I am envious (in a good way!) and in total admiration of any that have endured longer than we did…. and this one is coming up on 200 years, which places it as one of the oldest companies in the country that are still operating as it was founded, and by essentially the same organization.

            I will not go through the entire progression and iterations of Johnson Woolen Mills, but I want you to remember just one name for now… Simeon Lyman. In 1816 Mr. Lyman was granted (sold?) the rights to construct a mill on this site. And so it began as there were quite a lot of sheep in Vermont back then that were just begging to be shorn and turned into sturdy, quality made, warm clothing!

            Probably the best way to describe the lineage of the Johnson Woolen Mill is to compare it to another, totally unrelated, type of entity….. the cool ‘50s type singing group that is still touring, maybe like the Duprees or maybe the Ames Brothers. Now we all know that the original members of those groups are not singing today. What has evolved over the years is that over time, one of the members dropped out and was replaced by oh, say the nephew of another member. This goes on until the next older member passes, and his place is taken by another “new” person. As you can see, this morphing of these members, and the progression that entails, keeps the group as authentic as they can be because there is always a connection that can be traced back through the lineage to the origin of the group. It’s kind of the same with the Johnson Woolen Mill…. as the business moved along, sons and other relatives took the places of their forebears, (one lasted 118 years!) formed new partnerships which brought new blood to the enterprise and so on, until we come to today. The present co-owners and co-operators of the Mill are the Richards family and Erin Desautels.

            When you peruse the aisles of the sales floor and stop to examine, and actually feel, the items for sale there, you can appreciate both the quality of the fabric and the sturdiness of the ‘construction’ of these items. That’s what you get when you purchase an item made by a person who’s livelihood and reputation depends on how much skill and care they weave into the item that is on the table directly in front of them.

Thankfully, (for all of you that cannot zoom up to Johnson, Vermont) they have a very modern on-line presence at johnsonwoolenmills.com, a treat that I am quite sure that the originators never even dreamt of!

Now remember when I asked you not to forget the name of the guy way back in the day, from 1816, Simeon Lyman?  Well, Mr. Lyman is the Great-great-great-great grandfather of none other than Erin Desautels, one of the present owners.

                        In my mind, it just doesn’t get any better than that!