God's country

That's what I like to call any area that specializes in cheese. We were in Vermont last weekend for a friend's wedding and they are nearly as proud of their cheese as California is. Of course, we all know whose is supreme.

It was weird, though, to be in lefty-land where there was nary a pickup truck bearing a yellow "support our troops" sticker to be seen. And for once, I'm pretty sure that The Texan and I weren't the most liberal people in the room.

We spent all of our time in Burlington's environs. Hard for some to believe - okay, maybe this is my lack of geographical knowledge of New England asserting itself - but the southern tip of the state is maybe three hours away from Burlington. How can such a small state take so long to drive through?

Anyways, we managed to avoid the call of the Vermont Teddy Bear Company, but you can be damn well sure that we loaded up on a vat of maple syrup. Of course, we bought it, and then thought, huh. How are we going to get it home? Seeing as it was well over the airlines' three-ounce carry-on limit and all. I had the cashier weigh it and since it was six pounds, we figured we'd take our chances with stuffing it in the suitcase. I have packed many liquids in my suitcase throughout my travels, but none quite so potentially catastrophic as a half gallon of syrup. I am happy to report that all arrived in SA intact.