Miss Bailey Blue, your senior correspondent, reporting on last Sunday afternoon's extraordinary sabbatical with my human lackey, the Dad-servant.
We strapped ourselves into the faithful PT Cruiser and set out for that font of redneck boy-culture, that apotheosis of yee-haw, beerbelly bassfishing mentality, that shrine to the right to chase little animals across the tundra with big sticks, CABELA's!
Seems the boy-child had to exchange his new waders for another size. Apparently the misguided creature could not accept the fact that he was a "medium-stout" rather than a "medium." At any rate, the trout beckoned and the testosterone surged in his little brain.
Some parts of the Civilized World have bronze sculptures of saints. Others have knights on horseback. In the People's Republic of Connecticut, we have Bambi the Dancing Deer and his faithful side-kick, Flapping Turkey!
Oh, the Humanity!
Here is the nave of the cathedral! There's an indoor mountain filled with stuffed animals and, yes, that IS an airplane hanging from the ceiling.
Sorry you had to see this! Yes, that's a real black bear. The mountain goats are just above him.
Bullwinkle looks really happy to be here!
The indoor mountain contains a real trout stream. If you enter the cave inside the mountain, you can see the trout swimming about. The Dad-Lackey has long ago disappeared into the flyfishing area, and he's muttering incomprehensible Latin names of insects. The doctors assure me that this is treatable.
I am SO out of here!
Anyway, without his medication, the Dad-Lackey is helpless and insists that we drive to the Farmington River to start checking out the condition of his favorite trout-pools. Never mind that the river is flooded due to three consecutive days of torrential rains!
The old railroad bridge in Collinsville has been transformed into a "greenway" or bike and hiking path. One can follow the river south for many miles without fear of woodticks or poison ivy. That doesn't sound like very much fun.
Good heavens, these humans are such incorrigible wimps!
If this is the Call of the Wild, I am an echidna.
The river's a bit high--and cold! At all costs, I must prevent this idiot from going fishing--he'll get carried downstream to the Atlantic, and I'll be so embarrassed!
I wonder if there's anything to eat around...like a skunk or an opossum...
We did meet a ten-week-old Bassett Hound with the longest ears I'd ever seen--they trailed behind him for 20,000 leagues. And there was an ENORMOUS Bernese Mountain Dog! I'll have to ask Faya how something that big can be so gentle!
Once you get away from those awful humans, the place is rather beautiful.
There's still snow about, and the path is getting a bit slippery!
Ah...the Lower Collinsville Dam! This one catches many kayakers and canoeists by surprise!
This is where we turn around...maybe I can talk the Dad-Lackey into speeding up the pace and getting some real exercise!
I'll just chase his shadow until he starts panting and holding his heart...
In the distance, two male mergansers are speeding toward some undisclosed rendezvous.
Hmmm.....I think we're getting near the old Ax Factory!
Dickensian Gloom. Dark, Satanic, mills. In a bizarre way, it's rather pretty amid the birches.
They certainly knew how to build chimneys back in those days!
Mom's studio isn't far from here. Maybe she'll rescue me from this lunatic.
Ah....Home Sweet Studio! I love my little hideaway!
I guess that's all for now!