A vacation with a theme

The Puerto Rico trip was cancelled before it even began - the night before, in fact. I was grateful that I didn't have to wake up early and fight crowds at the airport before learning the bad news. In the end, I'll probably lose no more than $100, because I had booked some more-flexible accommodations, thinking that COVID might be a problem. That the airline might implode was not something I had considered, but the end result was the same. (And if anyone knows what's going on with Spirit, let me know in the comments!) The airline hasn't processed my refund, so I'm still getting emails aimed at unhappy customers. So far I've been offered one $7 meal voucher and one $50 travel voucher for the future. If I was stuck in the airport for two days, I'd be positively insulted that they thought those vouchers would make up for it.

I started my vacation one day later than planned, but with a whole new itinerary. Instead of beaches, pre-Columbian history, and rum, I'm pointed my car north, with the eventual goal of Vermont. I've never been to Vermont, and I hoped it would be cooler than DC (something that may not turn out to be true this week, after all.) The theme of the vacation will be Americana, bicycling, and cheese.

I had previously thought of antiques as nineteenth century and earlier, but a friend took me antiquing last weekend and I realized that since vintage 1950's items are now 70 years old, they now count. It's a bit odd for a minimalist to comb through antique stores; something has to really knock my socks off before I'd consider buying it. 

Last weekend I bought a 1951 Family Circle and read it cover to cover, including all the ads. It was the best $8 I'd spent in a long time. I hope to repeat the experience with this 1941 Life magazine.

This local donut store caught my attention, and seemed to count as Americana, even with the prominent maple leaf. The custard-filled was the first donut I've eaten from a store in many years. Definitely tasty, but my own donuts are still my favorite.

I've found a road-side attraction website that is directing me many interesting places. The first stop of the day was this giant pineapple atop a publishing business in the middle of an industrial park. The pineapple is their logo, but even the vast Internet can't seem to explain why.

The Shoe house! Built in 1948 as an advertisement by an enterprising shoe manufacturer, he allowed honeymooning employees to stay in it.

It's still furnished in the 1950's style, which I swooned over, of course.

I took a long bike ride along the Susquehanna river and many people smiled and told me they liked my look, which was delightful. I guess there aren't too many bicyclists around here in circle skirts and saddle shoes. I didn't manage any cheese today, except for what was stuffed into my dinner burrito, but I have high hopes for Vermont.