We begin our day as we do all others, sipping coffee in the living room. We watch the news on the giant flat-screen TV, distracted by chipmunks and squirrels darting around on the grass and stone wall just beyond the sliding glass doors that do not open. I love the chipmunk (maybe there is more than one—I only see one at a time); he is so tiny. So fast. So cute.

Our coffee cups empty, Michael says, “I thought we’d go to Hudson today.  See the lighthouse. Have Lunch. Look around.” 

Hudson on the Hudson

After a few missed turns and wrong guesses, Michael finally has his picture of the Hudson-Athens Lighthouse. While waiting for him to do his thing, as instructed, I look for a lunch spot. Unfortunately, it seems almost all of the restaurants are closed today. Like most country towns in any state of the union, Monday’s apparently are restaurant down-days. It’s not just a Texas thing.

Choosing is easy; I go down the Trip Advisor Best of List until I find the words OPEN TODAY for lunch. Finally, I stop at number nine. Cascades is a local hangout, good for lunch.

Sitting here, perusing the menu, I realize that this is not quite the nice relaxing lunch I had in mind. This downtown, long and narrow eatery is full to the brim with people hanging from the counter waiting for their To Go orders. I feel a crazy need to wolf down my soup and sandwich so I can return to work—like most of the patrons having lunch. I know this lunch and this feeling will make me dream about being back at work tonight—a nightmare.

Exploring

Michael and I first saw the town of Hudson from afar, on top of a hill at Olana.  What was very visible was a slender spiked church steeple rising from the trees, calling out to me, saying, I am a cute town—come visit. And the steeple had a story. Frederic Church—who paid for it—wanted a steeple tall enough for him to see on Sunday mornings when he wasn’t able to attend church.  Remembering the sight of it from Olana and staring up at it now, Frederic definitely got his wish. I cannot fit the church from top to bottom in my camera’s lens.

Other than the lighthouse, which drew Michael here, I was intrigued by the promise of great restaurants for lunch and antique stores to explore.  However, many shops are closed, and those that are open are filled with mid-century modern. I grew up with these furnishings, and they are not my thing.

Poking our nose here, there, and everywhere, we notice that most of the town looks in desperate need of some TLC. It has its own version of an urban ghetto on the back streets with peeling paint on many of the buildings we pass. It looks a bit shabby—not what I was expecting. Expectations—I’ve got to get rid of those.

In Search of Eagles

After purchasing a couple of pricey bottles of wine from a very pricey wine shop for this week’s dinners, Michael informs me that we are going to look for eagles.  

Apparently, eagles winter here, close to Hudson on the Hudson. Michael learned that lunchtime is easy pickings when the local ducks get stuck on the icy river. But today, it is not yet winter. There will be no ice.

We head north on 9. Arriving at the designated spot, perfectly described by Michael’s morning acquaintance. No eagles soar overhead. “Well,” Michael begins, “I guess if you want to see eagles, you need to stake out a place and stay awhile.” Staying is not in our POD, and the day is fast disappearing.

Vinnie’s, Again!

We take a very roundabout way home to go by Vinnie’s. (I wish I could take Vinnie’s home with me. I think it is unique in all of the world.) We purchase more of his luscious tomatoes to go with our pricey wine and a thick New York strip steak waiting for the grill.

Before falling asleep, Michael tells me, “Tomorrow I want to go to Newburgh and West Point.”