When people undertake to commit to lengthy flights to arrive at a far destination they're said to be suffering from jet lag, tired afterward, sometimes for days, particularly given the different time zones. We've flown on trips halfway around the world but never experienced that tired, disoriented feeling, settling right in with no 'time off' for resting. Perhaps too exhilarated by our arrivals at places hitherto unknown to us and exotic, at that. Of course, we were also much younger, back then.

 

   Sabbaday Falls, New Hampshire

So while we never really experienced jet lag, we're now experiencing something similar; 'mileage lag', having driven from Ontario to New Hampshire and back again, a week ago on fairly long drives. Our usual vigour is returning, we're not quite as tired feeling, but even then we undertook our usual activities, just at a bit of a slower pace. Now, almost a week after arriving back home, we're feeling fairly normal.

 

One of our day trips while staying at the Waterville Valley, fairly central to other places that we've restricted ourselves to visiting (since we're no longer able to climb steep mountain trails to reach their summits on the kind of physically exerting escapades that occupied us in years past), last week was to take the Kancamagus Highway to Sabbaday Falls, a favourite of ours for its spectacular views of a lovely mountain-landscape waterfall.

 

It was one of the hottest days we'd experienced there, hot and muggy. Yet at the Sabbaday the heat was far less draining, and a cooling breeze sifted through the forest trail as we approached the falls. It's a popular destination, we were by no means alone as we trudged uphill in the heat. While we were away and on these familiar old trails Jackie and Jillie remained leashed, unlike the freedom they enjoy trekking through our own forest at home. You never know what might happen and we dread the very thought of ever being separated from them.

 

Today, unlike yesterday when it was cold, overcast and rainy, we had full sun and warmer temperatures. So no need for raincoats, although even at 21C on the forest trails where the canopy shields from the sun, it felt a bit nippy. Actually, the atmosphere in the forest seems almost to be one of waiting ... the forest waiting for fall to march in. Even the squirrels are sensitive to that feeling, in their frantic rushes back and forth, gathering and caching overwintering foods.

 

Yesterday's dinner on a cold and too-early-dark evening was just perfect; a fish paella. It was hot and brimming with both nutritional elements and aromatic taste. We really enjoyed it. Our entire menu repertoire is undergoing a gradual change from the cooler, lighter fare we enjoyed in the summer, the more casual meals giving way to those requiring more thought and preparation.

 

 This morning, after breakfast, while Irving was busy doing the vacuuming, I baked a pecan pie. I did it a little differently, using butter and sour cream for the pie crust, for a change. I had pecans in the pantry and it occurred to us that a pie might be in order for something a little different from the fruit pies I'd been baking through the summer months.