In Search of Lunch

We have passed the Creekside Grille in Woodstock for weeks; there are always tons of cars, so I have designated today as the day to test it out. There are cars in the lot. This is a good sign. I try the door; it is locked. A golfer who has been watching us calls out, “It isn’t open on Mondays or Tuesdays in October.”  It is the first Tuesday in October, of course.

“Oh well, let’s go to the Diamond Mills Tavern—I read their lunch is great,” I tell Michael. He shakes his head, not believing we have arrived at a restaurant with doors locked one more time.

On our way to Saugerties, I check to make sure the Diamond Mills will be open.  They are—but not till 4 pm today. I confess the inevitable.

We still proceed to Saugerties, park the car downtown and look for a restaurant with an OPEN sign flashing brightly. There is no flashing sign, but a sign nevertheless, a sandwich board out front with today’s specials and an open door. We are tucked in a side booth in a dark cozy pub—The Dutch Ale House—with a variety of beer on tap—Michael is a happy guy.  I guess this was meant to be.

Whiling Away the Hours

I thought about walking around Woodstock today, trying to spend some money, not because it is something I necessarily want to do. Still, everyone else in the world seems to while away their hours walking the streets, popping in and out of shops in this tiny burg, so I think I MUST do it too. But the mountains are near, and they’re cheaper and more beautiful, so I suggest we take a short ride. The day is cloudy, but I don’t feel it should affect the trees, the colors; we are on tomorrow’s adventure, but I’m flexible. We wind around for a few hours, trying to get lost, but these days it seems impossible.

Eventually, we find our way back to the valley and Sunfrost Farms. Every time I come here, I like it more. It is such a wonderful little store, and their garden is right out back. I know things are fresh and beautiful and perfect. While I am inside buying vegetables for dinner, Michael entertains himself outside, taking pictures of pumpkins.

I exit the store with blue skies and sunlight on my face. I think a happy hour in the backyard is an excellent idea. “What a beautiful day,” I exclaim to Michael.

He sits in the car and smirks.  “Look behind you and then tell me that.”

Oh well, dark clouds have been a habit lately.