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finger lakes
May. 14th, 2006 11:15 amI have been thoroughly distracted these last few days because Anglachel keeps posting more and more chapters of the fanfic story of hers I've been following for over a year. It's a beautiful story, and she's up to the point now where ( I geek out for several sentences about Tolkien. )
Yes, the Sabres won last night, in overtime, ending the series and advancing them to the next round. It was lovely to just sit and listen to the rain pattering on the roof and, in the distance, people shouting and being boisterous. ( Now I digress about hockey for a while. )
So my weekend. I was going to write up a nice big long post about it all. But![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
z0bar beat me to it. His description of events is quite detailed and accurate. In my defense, we're driving along, I'm looking at the map, he says, "I think we turn here." I say, "I don't know. I sort of don't think so." He says, "I think I recognize this place."
I make him pull over so he can look at the map. "Look," I say, "I just don't know where we are." We're looking for an intersection. We're at an intersection. It may be the one we want, but then, it may not. The map is inscrutable.
"I think we're in the right place," he says, and we make the turn. A bit later, continuing in that direction, he says, "So where are we now?"
"I don't know," I say. The map remains inscrutable.
"Do we turn here?" he asks.
"I, um, maybe?" I say.
"You're the navigator," he says.
"Oh great," I answer. "Now I'm the navigator."
I think that little bit of context makes my position a little more tenable.
Also, we were operating under the assumption that Bully Hill closed at 5, and it was 3:45, and would be 45 minutes away from the destination once we reached the highway, and we had no idea where the highway was. So, yes, unscheduled, but, bugger, running out of time.
We didn't really fight, though. We were just a bit tense for a few moments. The scale of the map continually disoriented me, however. I'm used to operating on the hundreds-of-miles scale, where a wrong turning is several hours out of the way. This was, like, oh, gee, little lakes, how cute, let's drive around them. Oh. Oh. Blew my mind. We left Hammondsport for Buffalo at like five-thirty, and it wasn't even starting to get dark when we pulled into our driveway. Holy crap.
My brain was still operating on Driving-To-Georgia scale. I may be forever spoiled for day trips.
Friday morning we found out how the Sabres game had gone by looking at the front page of the newspaper. That was as into it as we wanted to get.
I would wholeheartedly recommend the Tudor Rose B&B to anyone with any reason to pass through Watkins Glen-- $85-125 a night, very nice proprietress, soft soft towels, feather-pillow-topped mattress, birdhouses, excellent French toast and superlative orange juice, and decent coffee. It was much fancier than anything I'd ever stayed in before.
I also wholeheartedly recommend Finger Lakes wines. I think of everything we tasted, my favorites were:
1) the vanilla sherry from Pleasant Valley. This stuff tastes so good I daydream about it when i'm not drinking it. I like to sniff my empty glass after I've drunk it.
2) The Estate Red from Bully Hill. It's a dry, somewhat peppery, rich red, and I love that kind of thing.
3) The Matinee from Fulkerson. It's a sweet white, almost a dessert wine, but crisp. In a similar vein is the Sweet Iris from Cascata-- very crisp, very clean, not headachey-sweet. There were a lot of wines of that sort of genre that we tasted, and enjoyed.
4) Cascata's Odds And Ends, a red blend that manages to be neither sweet nor dry. It has the fruitiness that makes sweet wines pleasant, but is not sweet; it finishes with the tartness that makes dry wines pleasant, but is not dry. We had a bottle of that with dinner and I enjoyed it extremely.
That list might not be in the right order. i can't decide. Z's got links to all the wineries in his blog entries. Check them out. I am lazy.
I have photos now, and am posting them at Elmwoodstrip. I am still looking for a perfect photohosting solution... this is, at least, a different one, for the moment.
http://www.estrip.org/articles/dragonlady7/23.html
I gotta run to work now. Blah.
Yes, the Sabres won last night, in overtime, ending the series and advancing them to the next round. It was lovely to just sit and listen to the rain pattering on the roof and, in the distance, people shouting and being boisterous. ( Now I digress about hockey for a while. )
So my weekend. I was going to write up a nice big long post about it all. But
z0bar beat me to it. His description of events is quite detailed and accurate. In my defense, we're driving along, I'm looking at the map, he says, "I think we turn here." I say, "I don't know. I sort of don't think so." He says, "I think I recognize this place."I make him pull over so he can look at the map. "Look," I say, "I just don't know where we are." We're looking for an intersection. We're at an intersection. It may be the one we want, but then, it may not. The map is inscrutable.
"I think we're in the right place," he says, and we make the turn. A bit later, continuing in that direction, he says, "So where are we now?"
"I don't know," I say. The map remains inscrutable.
"Do we turn here?" he asks.
"I, um, maybe?" I say.
"You're the navigator," he says.
"Oh great," I answer. "Now I'm the navigator."
I think that little bit of context makes my position a little more tenable.
Also, we were operating under the assumption that Bully Hill closed at 5, and it was 3:45, and would be 45 minutes away from the destination once we reached the highway, and we had no idea where the highway was. So, yes, unscheduled, but, bugger, running out of time.
We didn't really fight, though. We were just a bit tense for a few moments. The scale of the map continually disoriented me, however. I'm used to operating on the hundreds-of-miles scale, where a wrong turning is several hours out of the way. This was, like, oh, gee, little lakes, how cute, let's drive around them. Oh. Oh. Blew my mind. We left Hammondsport for Buffalo at like five-thirty, and it wasn't even starting to get dark when we pulled into our driveway. Holy crap.
My brain was still operating on Driving-To-Georgia scale. I may be forever spoiled for day trips.
Friday morning we found out how the Sabres game had gone by looking at the front page of the newspaper. That was as into it as we wanted to get.
I would wholeheartedly recommend the Tudor Rose B&B to anyone with any reason to pass through Watkins Glen-- $85-125 a night, very nice proprietress, soft soft towels, feather-pillow-topped mattress, birdhouses, excellent French toast and superlative orange juice, and decent coffee. It was much fancier than anything I'd ever stayed in before.
I also wholeheartedly recommend Finger Lakes wines. I think of everything we tasted, my favorites were:
1) the vanilla sherry from Pleasant Valley. This stuff tastes so good I daydream about it when i'm not drinking it. I like to sniff my empty glass after I've drunk it.
2) The Estate Red from Bully Hill. It's a dry, somewhat peppery, rich red, and I love that kind of thing.
3) The Matinee from Fulkerson. It's a sweet white, almost a dessert wine, but crisp. In a similar vein is the Sweet Iris from Cascata-- very crisp, very clean, not headachey-sweet. There were a lot of wines of that sort of genre that we tasted, and enjoyed.
4) Cascata's Odds And Ends, a red blend that manages to be neither sweet nor dry. It has the fruitiness that makes sweet wines pleasant, but is not sweet; it finishes with the tartness that makes dry wines pleasant, but is not dry. We had a bottle of that with dinner and I enjoyed it extremely.
That list might not be in the right order. i can't decide. Z's got links to all the wineries in his blog entries. Check them out. I am lazy.
I have photos now, and am posting them at Elmwoodstrip. I am still looking for a perfect photohosting solution... this is, at least, a different one, for the moment.
http://www.estrip.org/articles/dragonlady7/23.html
I gotta run to work now. Blah.
