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Growing pains…we’ve all had them whether we remember them or not. When you woke up with a sore leg or back, your parents told you it was growing pains, then sent us outside to play. 

As kids, we experienced physical and emotional growing pains. I was an emotional kid and remembered crying when I said goodbye to a teacher at the end of the school year because it was time for me to move up a grade or change schools.

I remember when my boys Noah and Sam were young, they had growing pains even though I’m not sure they remember having them either. 

They both entered high school as two of the shortest boys in their classes. They both grew 12 inches during one school year. They literally would come home from school tired, eat a bunch of food and go to bed. They would honestly wake up noticeably taller the next morning.

Growing pains as adults are emotional from growth and changes in our lives; the psychical pain, well that becomes part of a day-to-day thing the older you get. Throwing your back out while sneezing or trying to put on your socks are just two examples.🤦🏻‍♀️

We’ve already gone through growing pains with our business, The Vermont Spätzle Company, and we are experiencing them again right now. We were presented with a fantastic opportunity to grow our wholesale business which has always been our objective.

We enjoy doing farmers’ markets, talking to people about our product, handing out samples, giving suggestions or recipes, demonstrate how to cook the spätzle, and have loads of fun. A couple of years ago, we had to make the tough decision to discontinue our Sunday farmers market in Schenectady, NY. While it was a fantastic and fun market, we knew that working seven days a week wasn’t realistic or sustainable.

I actually cried when we sent them an email explaining why we couldn’t do the market anymore. I felt horrible, but this was a business decision that had to be made by us, the owners.

This week we were faced with the same dilemma. Our divide and conquer theory on Saturdays, splitting up and doing two markets, is no longer an option at this time. 

Yesterday we notified Emily, the Saratoga Farmers Market market administrator, that we were taking a leave of absence for the summer and fall market. 

This decision again weighs heavy on me. I really like everyone from vendors, market workers, and customers. I am going to miss some of my customers like Richard, who I wrote about last month. I keep tabs on some of my customers and worry about them, hoping they are ok when I haven’t seen them for a while. 

Yes, I had a lot of fun with my fellow Saratoga vendors and loved trying their different products, but I am not there to have fun; this is a business decision. Plain and simple.

I will be working at the Troy Waterfront Farmers Market with Marty on Saturdays. As the market season picks up each week and when we can get back to sampling our spatzle, it will be busy. Before the pandemic, we were in the position that we almost needed to start thinking about getting Marty a helper. It makes sense for us to be a two-person team again at Troy like in Schenectady.

As our boys were growing up, graduating from high school, and leaving for college, I had growing pains. Every time I thought about them graduating and leaving, I would get sappy. When they would come home to visit, I would get sappy again. Before I knew it, they were men!

Now, our son Noah lives on his own here in Arlington and works as a Volkswagen & Audi technician. He’s a polite, hard-working guy, has lots of friends all over the country, and is fun to be around. The pandemic has been hard on him because he is such a social person, adventurous, and loves to travel. Noah works hard and plays hard. We are so proud of his work ethic and the man he has become.

Sam, our youngest, will graduate from nursing school next month. He will be an RN at 20 years old. He will have another year of college to finish up his bachelor’s in nursing online. He runs on two rescue squads and has seen and done more medical things people twice his age haven’t done. He has brought people back to life literally with his squad partner, and yesterday, he accomplished one thing Marty has never done while on the rescue squad for 20 years…he delivered a baby yesterday morning. Ironically he’s been studying maternity all semester; he should get an automatic A. Lol.

“Without pain, there can be no growth.” I read an article in The Ledger and this quote from Berney Wilkinson, the correspondent, hit the nail right on the head. Growth and change are good but painful and uncomfortable while you are going through it. I am sorry to say goodbye to my Saratoga customers and friends, but Marty and I are looking forward to the next chapter of our business. I am also looking forward to meeting and getting to know his customers in Troy. 🙂

When I get inspired by something that I want to write about, I do it right away. I write better when I have thoughts flowing and the words almost putting themselves together.

On Saturday, I saw on Instagram 2 photos posted by Rockwell’s Retreat, a B&B right here in Arlington, VT. They posted now and then photos of Norman Rockwell’s studio. It was amazing how similar it was!

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I’ve wanted to write a piece on Norman Rockwell for some time and have been gathering information and photos, but when I saw those photos on Instagram, I knew it was time.

I emailed Rockwell’s Retreat early Sunday morning; I have met the one of the owners Kevin before at the Arlington Village Farmers Market. Kevin and his wife Sue are spatzle customers, and Kevin cooks it often. Last year, at the farmers market, he told me they wanted to use the spatzle in a breakfast dish for guests at the inn. Spatzle for breakfast? It’s perfect with poached eggs, with maple syrup or cinnamon and sugar…taking the place of pancakes.

I told Kevin about my blog and how I was inspired yesterday by their Instagram post in my email. I asked if I could come by to take some photos. He said they would be home all day; I promised trading spatzle for photos. Lol

Kevin and Sue Harter dreamt of owning and running a bed and breakfast or inn. They looked at many B&Bs and inns throughout New England, but in November 2019, they purchased Norman Rockwell’s home in West Arlington, VT. Room by room, they transformed the wallpapered walls and ugly shag rugs from the previous owner into beautiful spaces. Everything is updated and new, including the heating and cooling system, which rooms can control. The rooms look crisp, decorated, and furnished with period antiques and a lot of love.

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I was lucky enough to tour not only Norman’s home but his studio and his son Jarvis’s studio as well. When we walked into Rockwell’s studio, I could almost feel Norman’s presence in the space. I was so excited to see where he did all of his weekly Saturday Evening Post covers from 1939- 1953. It looked just like I had seen in photos. Kevin told me he used much information from many Rockwell’s models and community members when they brought the studio back to life.

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It was important to the new owners to do Rockwell and the property justice and replicate what was originally there. I truly felt like I was transported through time and space; I was there! I could practically smell the tobacco from his pipe.

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Rockwell had his photographer photograph his models using a white screen as the backdrop in front of the fireplace. I stood in the very same spot! I didn’t tell Kevin that I had goosebumps on my arms and was almost overwhelmed when I could feel how many people stood in the same spot back in the day. The spot I was standing in is a piece of American history, where Rockwell, the great illustrator, brought life to some of the most iconic images of Americana.

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Rockwell took a lot of criticism for using photographs taken of his models, but it was necessary to capture the right light and angles. He also told naysayers that the hard-working people of Arlington had work to do and didn’t have time to sit in the studio for hours; he always paid his models $5 for their time. He insisted that real people were represented in his paintings, “I paint human-looking humans and professional models just don’t qualify.”

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When they began to work on the studio, they could fix the original gigantic chandelier that hung in the center of the room. Community members helped find items to replace the ones that were once there. The deer head mounted next to the fireplace was shot by Norman’s next-door neighbor. He met the person whose mother actually shot the deer that Norman had mounted. Since they had no idea where the original deer head went, Norman’s neighbor gave the inn another mounted deer head his father shot. Practically the same thing!

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We went upstairs in the studio where Norman stored all of his props which is now a guest room with another gorgeous bathroom. Rockwell’s darkroom is now Kevin’s office.

Next, we went inside his son Jarvis Rockwell’s miniature version of his father’s studio; the inn calls it the half-pint studio. Kevin told me how it used to have a spiral staircase in the middle of the room; they decided to remove the staircase and update the room without it. The guest room and bathroom are as beautiful as the rooms in the main house.

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I am thrilled that Kevin and Sue brought back not only a piece of American history but an important piece of Arlington, VT’s history as well. Many community members who appeared as children in his works are still alive and are still living in Arlington. The little girl who was “The Babysitter” for example was in front of me the other day buying scratch-off lottery tickets. She still has red hair too!

I urge you to take a look at Rockwell’s Retreat website. Arlington has so much to offer already for visitors, but if you like Rockwell’s work and Americana and want to take a step back in time, this is the place to stay at. The inn has plenty of comfortable common spaces with local treats for their guest waiting for them and lots of gathering areas, including outside on the inn’s grounds.

It was great meeting both Kevin and Sue today; not only do they support our small business, but they also support many other local businesses. Yes, they are flatlanders just like us, but we chose to live and work here. We feel privileged to own, operate and act as stewards to our pieces of Arlington and American history.

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I’ve included many photos and finished works for you to see, all done right in front of that fireplace in his studio. I’ve included one other piece that was not done here in Arlington, but many consider it the most well-known and important piece of all. I first saw it at our friend Martin’s house hanging over the fireplace. I stared at it for a long time while Martin explained the piece to me and all about Ruby Bridges and the trouble Rockwell received over the painting. The piece is startling at first glimpse, but the more you look at it, the more you understand why and how Rockwell painted it.

Besides not making noteworthy meals, I haven’t been in the gym for at least 2 weeks. In my own defense to myself, I really can’t work out with a terrible headache or being exhausted; that’s when I hurt myself. I’ve listened to my body and took a break after almost 6 months of dedication.

It would have been so easy not to go back to working out; I would be the only one to really notice since no one has noticed any improvement after months of working out. Marty can see the difference, but that doesn’t count. On the bright side, all of my summer clothes that I tried on a couple of weeks ago fit and looked better. That was proof in the pudding what I was doing was working, after all.

I went back to weight lifting back in October to get my strength back and feel better mentally and physically, which have been accomplished. I didn’t go back with a big goal or to drop a lot of weight, but to prove I could be strong again and have more stamina.

I decided yesterday that I am not giving up. Maybe no one notices because I wasn’t as disgusting as I thought I looked or felt. Maybe I was so disgusting that people are afraid of offending me by telling me I look better? With all of these thoughts running through my head, I know I have to go back, not for people to notice, but for me.

It’s so hard to stay dedicated to working out, especially when life is busy. It’s so easy to make excuses when life is busy. Whether I work out or not, it doesn’t affect anyone but me. I don’t have to convince anyone but myself to keep at it. If I give up now, I will never realistically be “back in shape.” When I say back in shape, I don’t mean the shape I was in 20 years ago, but the best shape I can be in now…at 55.

I got back in the gym and picked up right where I left off. I used the same weight amounts that I worked up to over the last few months and completed all the sets and repetitions. I worked out to death metal to get me pumped up. It worked! My time in the gym was pleasurable and successful. I walked down the stairs of our barn, feeling pretty proud of myself for not giving up. ☺️

We live on Route 7A in Arlington, VT; it is also called the old highway or Ethan Allen Highway. Growing up in central NJ, when I hear the word highway, I think of the Garden State Parkway, Route 1, 287, or the NJ Turnpike, aka Route 95. 

During the day, Route 7A is as busy as some side streets where I grew up. At night it’s almost untraveled from 11 pm-6 am. Since we sleep with our bedroom window cracked open almost all year, I can tell what time it is or the weather. 

I went to bed last night with a feeling of doom and gloom, hoping and praying the weather storm warning would be wrong about the 5-10 inches of snow forecasted. I got up twice in the middle of the night and looked out the window, and luckily there was no snow. 

I woke up to the sound of the birds chirping between 6-6:15 am; I knew it was around that time because of the small number of cars I heard passing by. Traffic starts picking up around 7 am for the work & school rush hour. When I say rush hour, it’s a joke because again, it’s like side road traffic in Jersey.

Besides the birds chirping, I heard the sound of wet tires and light rain, which meant wet roads not slushy or snow-covered. Yay! I also didn’t hear any snow plows going by. Double yay! I laid perfectly still in bed while Marty and the two dogs were still sleeping, listening to the rain.

At 6:30 am, almost on the dot, Klaus, our bulldog, started crying at our bedroom door. He doesn’t have to go out; he wants Marty to go downstairs to wrestle and scratch his butt; it’s become a ritual now while our son Sam is away at college.

When I finally got out of bed a few minutes later, I looked out the window and saw our lush green lawn literally grew overnight. The trees also exploded with buds after the rain. It’s been extremely dry here in Southern Vermont this spring with brush fires, red flag warnings (low humidity and wind), and burn bans.

As a young adult, I never thought I’d be one of those people who say, “Well, you know, we really needed the rain.” As an adult, I know we needed the rain and actually wished for it. I also know that I am an adult because when I drop an ice cube on the floor, I don’t kick it under the fridge; I pick it up.

Heading out to the production kitchen this morning, I looked around how beautiful everything looked, even in the rain. Low clouds covered the mountain that is always in our view, the grass was glistening with raindrops, the birds were still chirping away, and the color green was everywhere in the Green Mountain State.

I got my second Moderna vaccine yesterday, and I expected to feel as relieved and thrilled as when I got the first one. Even when the woman standing behind the wheelie cart, which looked like an airline attendant handing out Bloody Marys, said, “Congratulations on getting your life back!” I didn’t smile or even say thank you.

Six weeks ago, I had some serious vaccine envy as I watched not only older people but people my age or younger getting vaccinated. I kept thinking, when the fuck is it going to be my turn? I have high risks wtf? I was chomping at the bit, feeling pretty selfish.

I held my breath when Marty and I signed me up and felt so grateful I actually had an appointment. I started doing the math to when I would get my life back and did a happy dance. 

As I sat there yesterday, waiting for the 15 minutes to be up to make sure I was ok, staring at the clock and couldn’t wait to leave. When we left for my appointment, I left with my head in my ass, making sure that I had my covid vaccine card. I kept checking to make sure it was in my wallet and that I didn’t lose it; I get like this with airline tickets and my passport. I know, I know…OCD. 

I was so focused on the vaccination card that I left my cell phone on the kitchen counter. I realized it halfway to Bennington, and it annoyed the ever-living crap out of me. How could I leave my phone at home? What if I needed it! A million what-ifs ran through my head. I didn’t give a rat’s ass about taking a selfie like I did the first time. What was wrong with me? 

Maybe, I felt different because instead of the person giving me my vaccine telling me my arm will be sore later, she rattled off a list of things I should expect and what to do. As more and more people are vaccinated, they have more information to share, which is good, of course. 

Maybe, I was more worried this time from all the headaches I had for 3 weeks following my injection with elevated blood pressure. We don’t even know if they were caused by the vaccine because there is no data yet. 

Maybe, my mind and body were just so tired from all the stress that Covid-19 has caused us all that my emotions shut down and just collapsed. I don’t know…

Maybe, thinking non-stop about myself or my family and friends getting the virus, watching in horror how many people lost their lives and family members, worrying about the long-term side effects of having covid or the vaccines. I also worried that we wouldn’t have a business after all of it is over. Praying that this would really be over.

I got my injection at 3 pm, and by 6:15 pm, I was so tired I needed to lay down. I was in bed by 7:30 pm. I kept dozing on and off until finally falling asleep around 11:30 pm. 

I woke up this morning exhausted with a sore arm; there is no safe way to work in the production kitchen feeling like this. I’ll take everyone’s advice and get some rest and stay hydrated. When I got out of bed, I was relieved that I didn’t wake up with a headache like last time or fever, chills, or flu-like symptoms. Thank goodness! Yay! 

I am truly grateful that I/we are getting vaccinated and getting our lives back. The stress and anticipation of it all left me feeling completely drained as if I got dragged behind a truck that I didn’t see coming; I thought I’d be doing a jig or cartwheels. Either way, hopefully, this is the end of this horrific nightmare, and we can all finally wake up and get on with our lives. 

I am sharing my raw emotions with you….wide open and real, hoping that if anyone else feels like I did yesterday, you won’t feel alone, ungrateful, weird, or embarrassed to talk about it. Everyone reacts to situations differently, just like the virus and vaccine itself. I’m heading to the couch to rest on this much-needed rainy day.

Did I tell you, or what? Happens every year when I get my summer clothes out! 😜

When you think of a business going out on a delivery route there can be traffic, problems parking, blocked loading dock areas and noise.

After production today, we went on a delivery run that began with a quick check-in with my doctor’s office to re-check my high last week’s blood pressure. Thank goodness it was in the normal range today. We still aren’t sure why I was getting headaches, and my bp was elevated, so we will continue to monitor my bp at home.

Our first delivery stop was to the Dorset Union Store in Dorset, VT. It’s everything you think of when you think of a store in Vermont, and this one has been around since 1816. Their tag line is “Purveyors of Necessities and Frivolitiies Since 1816.” The store has two chefs that create delicious sandwiches, soups, meats, salads. They also offer dinners to go, sides, entrees, and catering. We love being part of this!

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Our next delivery was just a few miles away on Route 30, a place called Mach’s Market in Pawlet, VT. This gorgeous store and deli have been a general store since 1804! After an extensive renovation, Mach’s Market reopened about a year ago “We’re Back…and Better Than Ever!” They have a team of chefs, bakers, and pizza makers offering new, fresh food, including a butcher shop and smokehouse. A wood-fired brick oven turns out organic baked goods, bread, and gourmet pizzas.

Our last delivery was to Consider Bardwell Farm in West Pawlet, VT, who are artisan award-winning cheesemakers. “Great People Making Great Cheese” is what they call their team. We are lucky enough to be included in their farm store and available for online purchasing and shipping! Our spatzle and their cheese make one hell of a macaroni and cheese!

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At the 2018 Vermont Cheesemakers Festival, Consider Bardwell Farm won the best cheese, and we won the best artisan food. It was such a surprise and honor to be awarded such a title. The festival is one of the top 10 food festivals in the country. Sadly, they have announced the cancellation again this year. Check the festival out on Facebook and start planning your trip to the festival next year.

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On our way back home, we decided to take the back roads. We took Rupert Road to Sandgate Road and were lucky that the road was freshly graded. The back roads can get grooves 2 feet deep. We went through “the notch,” a winding, curvy road, making traveling in the winter a nail-biter or impossible.

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Tomorrow after production, I go for my second Moderna injection. I hope and pray that I only experience a sore arm; we have a lot more spatzle to make this week. Fingers crossed! 🤞

Every autumn, I switch my clothes over from summer to winter, and in the spring, I do the opposite. Each time I make the switchover, I put things away neatly, but my closet is a total mess by the end of the season. 

I pulled out one bin the other day, searching for a pair of capris, and couldn’t find them. I rifled through the other five bins and still couldn’t find them. Everything I wear is black, and I can never find shit. 

It’s raining and cold outside, so it’s the perfect day to make the switch. As I start going through the bins, I talk to myself out loud. “What in God’s earth is this thing?” “What in the fuck is that?” “Oh, that’s where that went!” “Well, son of a gun!”

Back in October, when I took a break from belly dance out of anger and frustration with the whole covid thing, I cleaned my closet. Besides the regular switch over, I threw all my belly dance practice wear, hip shawls, coin belts, costuming, jewelry, and stage makeup into 4 large bins. 

I was like a crazy person when I went to the store to buy the large bins. I was so pissed off that day with the situation this was my way of putting it to the side. 

One conversation I had on the phone with Kathleen, my co-teacher and dance partner, asked me how I was doing. I don’t know what I said, but she asked me if I burned all of my belly dance stuff. She was relieved when I laughed and said it was packed away.  She knows me well. LOL

When I am done with something that was a hard situation or something I learned a life lesson from, I burn or bury it. Getting rid of the negative energy coming from the items helps me release whatever needs to go. 

Ok…I am not a pyromaniac in any sense of the word, but burning shit is like a ritual to me. I get rid of items that someone who turned out to be a toxic friend gave me, photos, articles of clothing, and trinkets. I haven’t had to do a burning ritual for 3 years, so that’s good news. 

As I sort through my clothing and accessories, things are a mess! Remember this…never put things away when you are mad, believe me. I am trying to sort things out then putting them in piles of love it, meh, hate it, and what in the hell was I thinking? There is also a pile of garbage or donate items.

This year, as I went through things, I realized that I didn’t wear more than 2/3 of my wardrobe because of covid. I won’t be as hasty getting rid of things because I haven’t worn them for such a long time. 

I found a box of super cute sundresses that I realized I didn’t wear any of last summer. I remember thinking, why dress cute while I am wearing this ridiculous mask. I certainly didn’t feel cute, so I dressed meh.

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Now that I’ve gone through everything, I got out my belly dance practice wear and some hip shawls. I am going back to teach belly dance on April 28 and want to have things ready. I reorganized everything, my garbage pile was small, and I had nothing to donate. I created a wait-and-see box for next year. If I don’t like the stuff then, it will be gone like the wind.

It took me about 4 hours to make the switch over, and I am so glad it’s done. There will probably be snow in the forecast in the next few days, it happens every year, and in the fall, we get Indian summer. 😜

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If you asked me a couple of years ago how I would spend my money if I were filthy rich, I would tell you there are three things. They aren’t extravagant things, but things to have constantly. 

In 2016, a reporter interviewed a guy named Issac Carranza about what he would spend his money on if he won Powerball. He replied, “Hookers and cocaine!” 

In reality, the man was married with two small children and said it as a joke. He got tons of laughs as people watched his candid, quick-witted response. That was his 15 minutes of fame; you can watch it on Youtube.

The first item on my list would be to have fresh-cut flowers in my home all the time. When I see this on tv shows or magazines, I know it’s a planned set, but I love the look and idea. 

Do I really have to be rich to have this “luxury” item? No. Three summers ago, Marty traded with a flower farmer spätzle for flowers every Saturday. Each week the flowers were different and lasted more than a week. I loved it!

An organic farm, Lovin Mama Farm, has fresh-cut flowers along with their certified organic produce this year at the Troy Farmers Market. Their kids love our spätzle, and I love their flowers, so they traded yesterday, and Marty brought home beautiful pink tulips. 🌷 

My second lux item would be to have fresh linens on my bed every single day. The reality of putting freshly washed sheets on our bed every day isn’t going to happen; however, I do make our bed every day as I would with clean sheets. Most busy days, I don’t actually make the bed until bedtime, but I can’t sleep in a wrinkled unmade bed. A nap? Shit, I could sleep on a cactus. 🌵 

My last item would be crystal clear square ice cubes. I know some people are like, she’s bat shit crazy; why does it matter? Well, because it does. 

I am a person who not only likes to drink cocktails, but I have an appreciation for well-made, gorgeous, sexy AF cocktails; ice cubes do matter. I have ice molds that I use, but I want the cubes to be crystal clear, and they are not. I have to do my research on how to make this happen, I am sure there is a Youtube video out there.

Are these three things really luxurious? No. Are they important things? No. Are they necessary? No. Are they ridiculous to other people? Definitely yes. When I was living my life on the destination and not the journey, they represented a “Look, I made it” achievement. Now I can see these items are obtainable right now on my journey and don’t have to wait until I become rich. I AM already rich with everything in my life. 😊 

This morning we didn’t have to wake up and head into the production kitchen right off the bat like usual. We planned out the week that today we can get ready for my first outdoor farmers market. Marty’s first outdoor market was last Saturday, which started at a brisk 18-degrees! 🥶

We have to get my tent, weights, banner sign, and heavier table to hold up to the winds in the Wilton Mall parking lot in Saratoga, NY. You can check out my market the Saratoga Farmers Market or Marty’s the Troy Waterfront Farmers Market. 

We didn’t go to farmer’s markets before starting The Vermont Spätzle Company since I worked weekends. I always thought they were expensive and wouldn’t have things I would actually use. Boy, was I wrong! 

Before the pandemic, Marty’s market in Troy was like an event every week, a destination spot for people to travel to. It was voted the number one farmers market in the whole country. Anywhere from 10,000-15,000 people would attend the expansive incredible market every Saturday. 

Of course, the pandemic changed all that. Last summer, the market was open under strict guidelines to keep people safe, restricting the number of people who could be at the market at once. They also had a one-way shopping directional flow. Last summer, between 2,000-3,000 people attended the market that runs from 9 am – 2 pm. 

This year both of our farmer’s markets have to follow those same guidelines for safe shopping. Everyone still needs to wear a mask and practice social distancing. No one is allowed to sample at their stalls and food should be eaten off-premises or an area dedicated for this purpose 

Both of us can’t wait for the guidelines to loosen up a bit. Not being able to sample makes our product’s sale trickier since at least 50% of people don’t even know what spätzle is. When we can sample, our product speaks for itself. The smell of spätzle being lightly sautéed in butter drifting out from under our tents is intoxicating. 

For now, we have to be patient and pray that things can only get better. We also do a farmers market right here in Arlington, VT, on Friday nights from 4-7 pm. The Arlington Village Farmers Market will run from June 18th through September 17th. The market has a new and improved, more spacious location at the Arlington Rec Park about a 1/4 of a mile north in route 7a from our house and production facility. It’s walkable through a path from Camping on the Battenkill campground, which is great for campers to get great local items to cook while camping.

If you have never attended a farmers market, I urge you to seek one out or visit us. You will find produce just picked that morning, perennials, flowers, herbs, maple syrup, honey, local eggs, beef, pork, chicken, and lamb. Prepared foods to go or to be eaten at the market once that is allowed again. Our markets have music, artisan pottery, jewelry, soaps, lotions, and candles. You literally can see who grew, raised, or made what you are buying with prices that can compete with supermarket prices. Knowing where your food comes from has become a priority for many people in the last year.

This morning we enjoyed our coffee on our front porch with Otto and Klaus. The weather was perfect; the sun was strong, making the 44-degree temperature feel like 70. If I had to pick a spot to have my morning coffee, it would either be on a beach or just right here. ☺️