#also I stand by only buying ben and jerrys in vermont and vermont only

[leverage-ot3]

best total eclipse photos

also yall I literally got the camera safety film it just didn’t work 😭😭😭 unfortunately I didn’t get the best videos but I had a lot of fun!

meme-ish pics under the cut

[xtruss]

Love For All: Forever Palestine 🇵🇸!

Ben & Jerry’s Stop Sales in West Bank and East Jerusalem

— By Wilson Ring and Josef Federman | July 19, 2021

MONTPELIER, Vermont (AP) — Ben & Jerry’s said Monday it was going to stop selling its ice cream in the Israeli-occupied West Bank and contested east Jerusalem, saying the sales in the territories sought by the Palestinians are “inconsistent with our values.”

The announcement was one of the strongest and highest-profile rebukes by a well-known company of Israel’s policy of settling its citizens on war-won lands. The settlements are widely seen by the international community as illegal and obstacles to peace.

The move by the Vermont-based ice cream company drew swift reproach from Israeli Prime Minister Naftali Bennett, a former leader of the West Bank settlement movement who called it “an immoral decision and I believe that it will turn out to be a business mistake, too.”

The company informed its longstanding licensee — responsible for manufacturing and distributing the ice cream in Israel — that it will not renew the license agreement when it expires at the end of next year, according to a statement posted on the Vermont-based company’s website.

The Ben & Jerry’s statement cited “the concerns shared with us by our fans and trusted partners.”

The company did not explicitly identify those concerns, but last month, a group called Vermonters for Justice in Palestine called on Ben & Jerry’s to “end complicity in Israel’s occupation and abuses of Palestinian human rights.”

“How much longer will Ben & Jerry’s permit its Israeli-manufactured ice cream to be sold in Jewish-only settlements while Palestinian land is being confiscated, Palestinian homes are being destroyed, and Palestinian families in neighborhoods like Sheik Jarrah are facing eviction to make way for Jewish settlers?” the organization’s Ian Stokes said in a June 10 news release.

In a Monday statement, the organization said Ben & Jerry’s actions did not go far enough.

“By maintaining a presence in Israel, Ben & Jerry’s continues to be complicit in the killing, imprisonment and dispossession of Palestinian people and the flaunting of international law,” said the Vermont group’s Kathy Shapiro.

The Israeli foreign ministry called Ben & Jerry’s decision “a surrender to ongoing and aggressive pressure from extreme anti-Israel groups” and the company was cooperating with “economic terrorism.”

“The decision is immoral and discriminatory, as it singles out Israel, harms both Israelis and Palestinians and encourages extremist groups who use bullying tactics,” the ministry said in a statement. It also called on Ben & Jerry’s to withdraw its decision.

While Ben & Jerry’s products will not be sold in the settlements, the company said it will stay in Israel through a different arrangement. But doing so will be difficult. Major Israeli supermarket chains, the primary distribution channel for the ice cream maker, all operate in the settlements.

Founded in Vermont in 1978, but currently owned by consumer goods conglomerate Unilever, Ben & Jerry’s has not shied away from social causes. While many businesses tread lightly in politics for fear of alienating customers, the ice cream maker has taken the opposite approach, often espousing progressive causes.

Ben & Jerry’s took a stand against what it called the Trump administration’s regressive policies by rebranding one of its flavors Pecan Resist in 2018, ahead of midterm elections.

The company said Pecan Resist celebrated activists who were resisting oppression, harmful environmental practices and injustice. As part of the campaign, Ben & Jerry’s said it was giving $25,000 each to four activist entities.

Aida Touma-Sliman, an Israeli lawmaker with the Joint List of Arab parties, wrote on Twitter that Ben and Jerry’s decision Monday was “appropriate and moral.” She added that the “occupied territories are not part of Israel” and that the move is an important step to help pressure the Israeli government to end the occupation.

The West Bank and east Jerusalem were captured by Israel in the 1967 Mideast war. Some 700,000 Israeli settlers now live in the two territories — roughly 500,000 in the occupied West Bank and 200,000 in east Jerusalem.

Israel treats the two areas separately, considering east Jerusalem as part of its capital. Meanwhile, Israel considers the West Bank as disputed territory whose fate should be resolved in negotiations. However the international community considers both areas to be occupied territory. The Palestinians seek the West Bank as part of a future independent state, with east Jerusalem as their capital.

Israel in recent years has become a partisan issue in Washington, with many Democrats — particularly of the party’s progressive wing — growing increasingly critical over a number of Israeli policies, including settlement construction, and former Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s close ties with former President Trump. Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders has been an outspoken critic of Israel.

The BDS movement — shorthand for a grassroots, Palestinian-led movement that advocates boycotts, divestment and sanctions against Israeli institutions and businesses — applauded Ben & Jerry’s decision as “a decisive step towards ending the company’s complicity in Israel’s occupation and violations of Palestinian rights,” but called upon the company to do more.

“We hope that Ben & Jerry’s has understood that, in harmony with its social justice commitments, there can be no business as usual with apartheid Israel,” a statement read.

The Israeli government says the BDS movement masks a deeper aim of delegitimizing or even destroying the entire country.

The Yesha Council, an umbrella group representing the roughly 500,000 Israelis living in West Bank settlements, said “there’s no need to buy products from companies that boycott hundreds of thousands of Israeli citizens because of the place they choose to live.” It said Ben & Jerry’s decision “brought a bad spirit to such a sweet industry” and called on Israelis to buy locally produced ice cream this summer.

Ben & Jerry’s move on Monday may not be the final chapter in the saga. Airbnb announced in 2018 that it would stop advertising properties in Israeli settlements. Several months later, after coming under harsh criticism from Israel and a federal lawsuit by Israeli Americans who owned property in the settlements, the company reversed its decision.

— Federman reported from Jerusalem. Associated Press reporters Lisa Rathke in Marshfield, Vermont, and Ilan Ben Zion in Jerusalem contributed to this report.

[inkandblade]

06: Fading

This my July Camp NaNoWriMo prompt fill, but it is also a second installment of my Bubblegum Series song!fic, Take This Heart Away, though it's not a direct continuation. It should be okay to read as a stand-alone piece, but it's definitely part of that A/B/O universe.

“Actually. Can you get me a tub of Ben and Jerry’s? Chubby Hubby or Peanut Butter Cup will do.”

Cora didn’t even look up from the shopping list she was making. “There’s three kinds of ice cream in the freezer, Derek. Have one of those.”

Derek could see the logic in her statement. He walked around her and opened the top door on the fridge. There was a tub of the expensive vanilla stuff their dad liked, an unopened tub of Ben and Jerry’s Banana Split and what looked to be an almost finished pint of their Mint Chocolate Cookie. He reached out to take the last, a flavor he’d usually pick if given the option, but stopped before he touched it.

It wasn’t what he wanted at all.

“Nope, I want Chubby Hubby or Peanut Butter Cup. The market always has both.” He dug into his back pocket as he flipped the fridge door shut and turned around. He pulled out his wallet and the fifty he had tucked in the back for emergencies. “Here, get me one of each, and a couple of other flavors for the freezer.” He was staying overnight, and he’d be damned if he’d share the pints he wanted, so he might as well make it less tempting for everyone else.

Cora looked at him and drew her head back and then tilted it to the side. She moved her gaze to the money in his hand and then up and over his shoulder to where their big sister was in the family room. “Lo, there’s something wrong with Derek. He’s trying to give me money.”

Laura snorted. “Take it. Get him a bag of mini Reese’s as well.”

Derek was sure he should be making a snarky remark at them both, but that actually sounded good.

Cora picked up her list and stepped backwards, making a show of the fact that she wasn’t going to turn her back on them. “You want fifty buck’s worth of ice cream and candy?”

“He wants a pint of Chubby Hubby, a pint of  Peanut Butter Cup, and a bag of Reese’s.” Laura’s voice had less laughter in it now, and Derek twisted around to look at her, not bothering to say goodbye as Cora left. “Come and sit with me, Der.”

He had no reason not to, so he did.

She was stretched out sideways on the sofa, belly round and proud, and a square cushion was stuffed under her waist for support. She bent her legs up for him and he sat, happy to have her straighten them back over his lap.

“I thought you were a bit space-cadet in that meeting this morning, little brother, but I didn’t realize quite how serious it was.”

Derek looked down at her legs. They were bare. She’d long since announced that she’d decided to stop shaving them, half because of the pregnancy and half because she just didn’t want to anymore. The hair was soft and fine, and it looked almost blonde in the late afternoon sunlight. Derek put a palm across her top shin and squeezed a little when he turned to face her again.

“It’s not that bad. I just…”

He just missed Stiles like crazy. But, waiting wasn’t an impossible thing, and he had no one to blame but himself, really. Deaton had been definite when he’d informed them of the statistics. Given what the doctor had called their staggering biological compatibility—he’d said that with an actual smile on his face—they had a ninety-eight percent chance of conceiving when they first consummated, and thereby solidified, their bond.

Derek was ecstatic at the idea, and Stiles’ scent had seemed to agree. But, Derek didn’t want to take any attention away from the baby that Laura and Jordan had taken over eight years to conceive, so he’d asked Stiles if he’d be okay with putting it off for a while.

Stiles had kissed him stupid and told him that not only would he be okay with waiting, but that he loved Derek even more for being such an amazing brother. Derek hadn’t seen Stiles for almost three weeks, though, and didn’t feel like an amazing anything right now.

Laura hummed. “Stiles wasn’t supposed to be gone this long, and it’s nibbling at the edges of your sanity.” She smirked as she said it, but Derek knew she was just trying to cheer him up. “Is that why you took yesterday afternoon off? Did you see Deaton again?”

Derek nodded. “Other than asking Stiles to send me fresh shirts there isn’t much that I can do. But he sounded so down about his great aunt when I talked to him last night that I didn’t want to ask. I don’t want to stress him anymore than he already is.” The elderly woman was the last of Stiles’ mother’s family, and she was purportedly on her last legs. Hale and Co. had happily given Stiles leave, on half pay, to be with her before she, well. Stiles was still in Vermont.

Laura wriggled, and seemed to be trying to shift with a purpose but eventually grunted and flopped down again. “Bloody belly from bloody hell.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’ve been watching a lot of British shows online. Don’t judge.” She pushed her heel back into his belly harder than it seemed likely to be possible. “There. I wanted to smack you but I can’t, so a not-kick to the gut will have to do.”

Derek eyed her, and asked even though he knew he’d probably get another gut-kick. “Do you need me to move?” You don’t look as comfortable as you were before.”

“You’re a freaking saint, Derek. You know that, don’t you? I am a pregnant woman who hates the way her body feels but loves what it means. I’ll deal with an uncomfortable angle for a little while because I know it means that my Mate and I will have the baby we’ve always wanted at the end of it. Your human Omega boyfriend might not know what it feels like to react to someone’s scent the way you and I do, but he’s probably the smartest person we know, and he gets why it’s important for you to be near his stink. He’s also pretty freaking terrifying when he’s pissed off, and he will be if he finds out you’ve been holding out on him because you’re putting your own sanity on the line to stop him from feeling a bit sadder.”

Derek let himself sink further into the sofa, wishing it was a bit bigger so it would swallow him whole. “My sanity isn’t on the line, Lo. He’ll be back eventually. I can deal till then.”

“So, what? You’re going to Alpha-up by buying shares in Ben and Jerry’s? Does he really smell like peanut butter cups to you?”

Derek seriously considered tickling her feet, but decided he’d probably get an actual kick in the face and a broken nose and he didn’t want to find out if the sofa cushions soaked up blood as well as carpet did.

“Yes. Sort of?” He hadn’t really thought about defining it before she’d suggested Cora put Reese’s on her shopping-list too. “He must.”

Derek’s phone chimed with a message in his pocket, and Laura lifted her legs so he could cant his hips and get it out. He swiped it open and tapped on the text.

Did you get the parcel? I sent it priority so it should be there by now. I wish I was with you, but I figured some of my scent, relatively fresh from the source, would at least make up for me being stuck on the other side of the country.

A second text chimed as Derek stood without realizing he was doing it.

“Oi, Derek! Pregnant woman the size of a house here. Not knocking me off the seat would be a good thing.”

He looked down at her and then back and his phone and.

I miss you, D.

“I need to.” He couldn’t just leave Laura alone, though. Could he? She had been here most of the day by herself, so. “There’s something I need to go pick up. I.”

“Go, you fool. I promise I won’t let anyone get to your flavors if Cora gets home with the ice cream before you get back.”

♠

Fading: [v] becoming dim, as light, or losing brightness of illumination; losing freshness, vigor, strength, or health

July CampNaNoWrimo - my prompt table and ‘rules’ are here.

[paul-doyle]

From The Hills Of Northern Vermont, Bill Lee, Pitcher-Philosopher, Still Plays A Full Schedule

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

July 8, 2001

CRAFTSBURY, VT. - On a sunny afternoon in June, the Craftsbury town common is virtual Rockwell.

On one side of the common, a church sits atop the hills of northern Vermont. On the other side, children play in a schoolyard. A white gazebo stands on a sprawling lawn that is framed by tree-lined streets.

Amid the quaint New England scene, Bill Lee is on a roll. Holding a beer in one hand, wearing knee-high rubber fishing boots, a black T-shirt and cargo shorts, Lee sits on a folding chair next to the gazebo and recites his thoughts on everything from baseball in Cuba to life in Vermont. His references range from Ernest Hemingway to Buckminster Fuller as he sprinkles stories with anecdotes from his pitching career.

The man who calls himself a Roman Catholic Buddhist is very much in the moment, losing himself in his stream of thoughts.

That seems to happen when the camera is rolling. And on this day, a crew of documentary filmmakers that recently followed Lee on a trip to Cuba is filming him. The Boston-based crew is producing a film about Lee for PBS and is interviewing him in the town he has called home since 1988.

Leaning forward, sipping his beer and talking about Cuban culture, Lee speaks in front of a hand-held camera and a boom microphone. The scene seems surreal, yet no one stops to watch. Cars and trucks rumble past the common and no one slows to catch a glimpse of the gathering.

``The cameras just keep coming,'' says Lee's estranged wife Pamela, who is home while Bill holds court on the common. ``Same drill all the time. He takes them to the common. They film him at the baseball field. He might go to my daughter's school. Never ends.''

Current Events

It has been 19 years since he wore a major league uniform and even longer since he was entertaining New England sports fans as a member of the Red Sox, but Lee won't fade away. Every so often, his name appears in the news and he is ripe for a quote. The latest instance was the arrival of Don Zimmer's biography; Lee accused the former Red Sox manager of throwing the 1978 season.

When Lee reappears on the pop culture radar screen he reminds the world why he is such a compelling figure. An ex-jock who refuses to give up his game -- he continues to play baseball and softball (as a pitcher, DH and first baseman) in barnstorming games and senior leagues all over Canada and the United States -- Lee is still among the most intelligent and literate professional athletes.

Lee, 54, divides his time among several spots. Craftsbury (population 1,000) is home, but he can just as easily be found staying with friends in Florida or several spots in New England, or he could be in Montreal, western Canada, Washington State, California, Mississippi or Arizona. Camping, visiting family, playing baseball, signing autographs, giving interviews -- it's the nomadic life he has seemingly lived since he first donned a Red Sox uniform more than 30 years ago.

``I'm a man on the move,'' Lee says.

The beauty of Lee's life is its unpredictability. Each morning, he talks baseball on a Montreal radio station. Each Thursday, he tapes a baseball-related show for a Montreal TV station. On any given day he is speaking to sports reporters from all over the country, spewing his thoughts on the game.

But his depth of knowledge appeals to a diverse audience. How many former athletes attract a writer from The New Yorker and a film crew from PBS in the span of months?

Only Lee.

Spend a day with Lee and it's easy to understand the interest from the mainstream and literary media. You will hear rants about everything from the Red Sox to Vermont's civil union law. You will hear his philosophies on life as you tour the farms and rolling hills of northern New England. You will hear off-color jokes and watch an aging New England celebrity move among his neighbors without a hint of pretense.

But don't mistake this for an average day in Lee's life. There is no such thing.

In the morning, Lee spends a few hours with the PBS crew before returning home. He bickers with Pamela, whom he married in 1982 and is in the process of divorcing. He feeds his rooster and chickens, he attempts to complete a few household projects, he runs errands and he watches his daughter play tee ball.

He is pensive and serious. He is lively and gregarious. He tells jokes and stories and plans his next trip.

``This is home,'' Lee says, ``but I'm a nomad. This is my New England base. Catch me here or I'm off. There's always a game somewhere.''

Shopping With The Spaceman

As Lee enters a supermarket in Morrisville, which borders Craftsbury, heads turn. Shoppers stop, gaze at his boots and smile. A teenage girl who apparently knows Lee razzes him and asks if he's expecting a flood.

``Haven't you heard?'' Lee answers. ``The floods are coming. I'm ready ... are you?''

Inside the store, Lee stops at the bank and deposits a check. All five tellers are transfixed on Lee, who jokes about his shorts and boots and his search for someone to groom his lawn while he is on the road.

``Any of you girls interested?'' Lee says.

In four days, Lee will be playing in a baseball game in western Massachusetts before flying out of Bradley International Airport, bound for Winnipeg. He will spend about a month playing in a senior baseball league and living with his girlfriend in Calgary.

Lee says he must have enough money to last through July, since he's not sure when he will return to Vermont. When he receives a slip from the bank teller, Lee winces and studies his account balance. He stares at the ceiling, raises his index finger and recites numbers.

He closes his eyes and smiles.

``Cool,'' Lee says. ``More money than I thought. I'm all set. Maybe I can buy myself a new pair of pants.''

The bank tellers, hanging on Lee's every word, burst into collective laughter.

``You should stick with the boots ... very flattering,'' a teller says.

Pushing his carriage toward the produce aisle, Lee turns and waves. The bank tellers are rolling their eyes and shaking their heads.

``Those are my girls,'' Lee says. ``They love me.''

As Lee walks through the supermarket, he talks about his upcoming week in Craftsbury. Alternating between his various home projects and his pickup basketball games, Lee realizes he has busy week.

His primary concern: finding someone to tend to his home while he is away, since Pam will be moving to Georgia with their daughter Anna, 7. The divorce will be final in a matter of days and Lee will retain the Vermont home, which he built on 14 acres of land 13 years ago.

The divorce has been brewing for over a year, but it is now imminent and Lee will be forced to visit his daughter in Georgia. At home, Pam indicates Bill's schedule is a problem -- he is almost an absentee father because he is away so frequently.

His wayward life contributed to the end of his first marriage. As his career was winding down, Lee and his first wife, Mary Lou, separated in 1981 and she eventually moved to Mississippi. While Lee was living in Montreal, New Brunswick and eventually Vermont during the 1980s, his three children -- Michael, Andy and Caitlin -- were in Mississippi.

His grown children now live in Mississippi, California and Washington. He has a grandchild in Spokane, where Michael lives, and his aging parents live in the San Francisco area.

``I try to make a loop,'' Lee says. ``I'll be out in Calgary with my girlfriend. We'll spend a week in Spokane and see my grandson, we'll head down to my parents for a week, then I'll see my daughter and eventually be back up in Canada. I see everyone.''

Now, Anna will be in Georgia -- another state on the itinerary.

Simplicity Pattern

Through all of the traveling, Lee rarely stays at hotels. Many of his expenses are covered by organizations that ask him to speak or sign autographs, so his out-of-pocket expense is not great.

Which is necessary, since Lee prides himself on simplicity. He has a pension from baseball and derives income from his TV and radio appearances in Montreal. He also runs a fantasy camp in Florida each spring and is continually in demand for appearances throughout New England.

Just two weeks ago, he made an appearance in Bristol and played in an afternoon game at Muzzy Field.

``I'll go anywhere,'' Lee says. ``And I've never overcharged.''

But even with the various sources of income, Lee is not living an extravagant life. He says he earns just enough to live, and boasts of his self-reliance. He taps maple trees and sells the syrup. He saves scraps of wood and makes his own baseball bats. He raised his own chickens for food and often rants about living a life that has little impact on the environment.

After finishing his shopping -- steaks, a bottle of red wine, some Ben and Jerry's ice cream -- Lee squeezes his 6-foot-3 frame into a reporter's rented Toyota Corolla and is off to his next stop.

Why the compact car when he owns a perfectly functional Pathfinder? Lee says the Toyota burns less fuel and is better for the environment, so he sacrifices comfort for his principles.

``Any little thing we can do for the earth,'' Lee says. ``Nothing wrong with this car. It doesn't take a lot to make me happy. I'm a guy who doesn't need a lot. I really am.''

Yankee Mind-Set

Inside a store that sells farm and lawn supplies, Lee immediately notices an employee wearing a Yankees hat. Lee is also taken by the cage of chickens, which cost a mere $1.25 each.

``Give me two of the meat birds,'' Lee says.

The boy with the Yankees hat grabs a box and opens the cage.

``Which ones?'' he asks.

Lee is leaning against the counter and smiling. His grin widens and his eyes flicker.

``The ones with the big legs and no brains ... and the little Yankees hats on them,'' Lee says.

Lee bursts into laughter. He repeats the line and even asks where the little Yankees hats are as the kid pulls the chickens out of the cage.

``It keeps going, doesn't it?'' Lee says. ``It never ends. It all comes back to the Yankees. You can't make this stuff up.''

Back in the Corolla, more jokes follow. The punch line for one involves the resemblance between Yankees fans and various parts of the human anatomy.

Lee says he never tires of the rivalry between the Red Sox and Yankees. When Zimmer's book arrived in the spring, the calls to Vermont came from all over the country. Reporters were looking for a response from Lee, named by Zimmer as the one player he would never invite to his house for dinner.

First, Lee said he wouldn't go to Zimmer's house because he had no interest in seeing 1950s furniture.

Later, he said Zimmer was secretly working for the Yankees in 1978. Zimmer, Lee said, threw the '78 season and is now being repaid by George Steinbrenner as an employee-for-life with the Yankees.

Lee says he doesn't hate Zimmer. He says he has no respect for Zimmer as a manager and still harbors anger about being passed over during the stretch run of the '78 season.

But the private Lee is far more thoughtful than the flaky persona he projects for the sports media. Many of his outrageous quotes are thought out and he will defend them with compelling argument, but he admittedly says things for effect.

``I'm honest,'' Lee says. ``I'm an open book. But I've always been a good interview because I read a lot. I'm well-versed. I know what I'm talking about. I like giving my opinions and stirring it up a little bit. Nothing wrong with that.''

While he continues to fan the flames of the Yankee-Red Sox rivalry, he is really more tied to Montreal than Boston. He is visible throughout New England, but he has virtually no relationship with the Red Sox and jokingly said he was distraught when the team did not invite him to the recent 100th anniversary celebration.

He does, however, have a cordial relationship with Red Sox general manager Dan Duquette. He says Duquette has always been friendly -- or as friendly as he is capable of being.

``I think he's a little weird,'' Lee says. ``You know, he cuts his fingernails when you sit with him. He does this weird, bizarre stuff. His behavior is, like, strange. He kind of reminds me of Nosferatu, kind of a vampire-type guy. Like he comes out at night or something. A New England, Stephen King character. Just kind of weird.''

In the 1970s, Lee shook the baseball establishment when he said he sprinkled marijuana on his pancakes. Turns out, he was joking.

He compared Billy Martin and George Steinbrenner to Nazis. He went AWOL when the Red Sox traded his friend Bernie Carbo and he left the Expos when they released Rodney Scott.

And recently, he called Graig Nettles a Neanderthal.

``It all comes back to the Yankees,'' Lee says over lunch. ``I mean, that's my life. Look at the stuff that happens. The kid with the Yankees hat? It was too easy. It's just my life.''

Political Animal

Lee is very much at home in Vermont, a state that balances the traditional values of New England farmers with the radical politics of aging hippies. This is a state that elected socialist Bernie Sanders to congress and was the first to sanction same-sex marriage.

As Lee drives through Morrisville and Craftsbury, he points out the ``Take Back Vermont'' signs along the road. The signs represent the more conservative, anti-civil union faction in the state.

``Here we have the homophobic idiots in the state,'' Lee says. ``These are the people who live in trailers and vote for Bush because they think they'll get a tax break. Bush doesn't care about these people. Why don't they understand that?''

In 1988, Lee ran for U.S. president under the Rhinoceros Party banner in Canada. His platform: No borders, because the earth is a one-celled organism. And he was opposed to guns and butter (``They'll both kill you.'').

His political views are a reason he will probably always keep his home in Vermont. While he is constantly on the move, he loves the serenity of life in the mountains.

Lee's home was built on land donated by his friend Scott Reed, whom he met at a fantasy camp in the late 1980s. When he recently separated from his wife, Lee spent many nights at the Reed home just down the road.

As Lee brags about the benefits of living in Vermont, he also acknowledges that he will probably be spending less time in the state when his ex-wife and daughter relocate. For all of his bluster, that thought stops him in his tracks.

``I'll need a New England base,'' Lee says. ``But things will be very different. We'll see what happens ... I'm not sure.''

Another Chapter

Returning to his house after his stops in Morrisville, Lee drops off his new chickens and feeds his other animals.

The house is full of boxes, as Pam prepares for her move. Frayed Bill Lee baseball cards are scattered throughout, but there are few reminders of his major league life.

Anna studies the cards and knows her father was a big league player, but Lee says his daughter is unimpressed. Still, the bond between them is obvious. When he interacts with Anna, Lee is every bit a child.

When Lee greets Anna as school ends, he joins his daughter on the swings and asks her about her day as they swing side-by-side. He is reminded about Anna's activities -- pottery class, tee ball -- and Lee seems scattered and unaware.

This is an obvious source of strain between Bill and Pam.

``Maybe if you were home more,'' Pam says.

Lee has no answer. He shrugs and slips into a pensive gaze before saying he will be sure to attend the tee ball game.

``The left hand can't understand the right hand,'' Lee says as a way of describing his relationship with Pam.

Later, as he feeds the animals, Lee says Craftsbury is a perfect place to raise a child and he wants his daughter to grow up among the mountains and trees and farm animals.

The problem is, Lee is often away. Pam says she spends half the year as a single mother and has grown tired of the arrangement.

When they discuss Anna's skills as a tee ball player, Pam makes a point of saying Bill rarely sees her games. She also chides him for unfinished household projects and for his forgetfulness.

Again, Lee has no retort. He says he has accepted that his marriage is over and he is enthusiastic about his girlfriend, with whom he will live in Calgary. They will spend time at a friend's bed and breakfast in British Columbia, they will swim in the Fairmont Hot Springs in Montana and sleep under the stars.

``It's a great life,'' Lee says.

In between baseball and camping, Lee is writing a sequel to his 1984 book ``The Wrong Stuff,'' which was nearly produced as a movie starring Woody Harrelson. Lee hated the screenplay (``Too kiss-and-telly'') and the project died. His next book will elaborate more on his career and include stories about his post-career life.

The book will have all of Lee's thoughts, from politics and philosophy to baseball. And his thoughts on baseball are not limited to the state of the major league game.

As he watches Anna's tee ball game, Lee is restless. Sprawling on the grass, his hands cover his eyes.

``God, I hate this game,'' Lee says. ``Tee ball.''

Lee says he loves instruction, but he does not have the patience for uninterested 7-year-olds. He loves fantasy camps because he teaches the game to middle-aged men who have not played since their youth. ``Building teams with people who don't know how to play,'' Lee says.

He also has no doubt he would have been a good minor league instructor because he can relate to young players from all cultures. His trips to Cuba are proof. Lee brings equipment into the country and works with players even though there is a cultural and language gulf.

``The more diversified you are, the more tools you have to make kids listen,'' Lee says. ``Yeah, I would have been a good manager and coach. But [major league] teams wouldn't touch me.''

At the tee ball game, Lee is commenting on the mechanics of the players. The swings are too wide, he says. The players should know what base to throw to, he insists.

``They're 7 years old,'' Pam says.

Lee shakes his head. When the coaches tell a player to touch the base, Lee wonders why the coach doesn't tell the player to also tag the runner.

``Why don't they teach concepts?'' Lee says. ``You can do other things. They should know how to conceptualize.''

Lee also doesn't understand the rule that requires players to move one base at a time.

``Look, they're all content,'' Lee says. ``One base at a time. David Bowie, station to station.''

After the game, Lee instructs Anna on the art of hitting. Using an umbrella, Anna takes a few cuts. She mimics the sound of a ball hitting a bat, drops the umbrella and runs away.

Lee, continuing to preach about balance and a level swing, picks up the umbrella. Standing alone near the tee ball field he takes a few swings before talking to no one in particular about his hitting.

``Hit a home run in my first [barnstorming] game in Chicopee, hit a home run in my first senior league game, hit a home run in Cuba,'' Lee says as he walks toward the Corolla. ``I'm hitting the [expletive] out of the ball. ... Hitting's all about balance. I'm hitting better now than I ever have.''

[hangwithjeng]

Bernie, Beer, and Burlington.

Last weekend some folks here had an extra day off due to President’s Day. Or, as a lot of current Americans are saying, Not-My-President’s Day.

Clearly the best way to celebrate was to drive 3 hours to Vermont and play a game called “Spot the Bernie stickers” along the way. We gave up pretty quickly though. Basically any car with a Vermont license plate had a “Bernie 2016” sticker, which was both heartwarming and sad at the same time.

My friend and I opted to drive up just to check out the tiny little state that blessed us with Senator Sanders. He flew into Boston at 6 AM on Saturday morning and we immediately took off from Cambridge to do a straight drive up to Stowe.

Our first mission: get to Alchemist Brewery before 11 AM. To backtrack a little, part of the reasoning for this trip was to hit up some of the best breweries in Vermont’s bustling craft beer scene. The most popular ones are along what is lovingly referred to as the IPA Highway. The trifecta of beers include Heady Topper from Alchemist, Abner/Edward from Hill Farmstead, and Sip of Sunshine from Lawson’s Finest Liquids.

So back to our mission. We were racing to arrive by 10:30 AM to beat the crowd and get our hands on some Heady Topper, Focal Banger, and Crusher. We were meeting up with two other friends who drove up from Connecticut and we were all able to buy a couple cases of beer. They actually started serving people at 10:30 so by the time 11 AM hit, there was a long line that snaked around inside and back outside as well.

Out of our group of 4, two of us knew exactly what we were getting ourselves into and the other two just came along to meet the quota. A lot of beers are in such high demand that they limit the number you can buy, so it’s pretty common to drag friends/family along just to have them buy extra beer for you. At Alchemist, Heady was limited to 3 four-packs and most others were limited to 6. The facility is new but like most breweries in New England, you can’t drink on the premises. I still dislike that idea but am getting used to it at this point. The good thing is you can get free samples.

After a quick stop at PK Coffee for some breakfast sandwiches and coffee, we all drove an hour away to Greensboro Bend to visit Hill Farmstead. If you think you’re getting lost and that there couldn’t possibly be anything out in this remote area of farmlands, you’re on the right track. The drive was very scenic on a lovely sunny day and we actually enjoyed that it was a little adventure to find it.

Once we arrived, we were immediately told to take a number. It was chaos inside. People standing around, people hanging out and drinking, people waiting in line. I think they try their best to be organized but with such popularity it must be difficult. Here’s my rundown for you: There are 4 counters. 3 of them are for growler fills, 1 is for buying pints. Yes this is one of the rare breweries where you can buy a pint and drink on the premises. The number you initially take is the number to get a growler filled. People came prepared with multiple growlers and bags to carry them. There is no limit that I know of. Lastly, for samples, you can walk up to ANY of the counters and get as many samples as you want. But my pro tip: GET THAT NUMBER. Even though it’s the first thing you do, the lines are so long that taking a number immediately still means waiting an hour or an hour and a half.

We killed time waiting for our numbers to be called by sampling beers, buying a couple pints, and checking out the store. The taproom has a homey feel to it with an outside deck you can hang out at. The views are pretty and I’ve heard that in the summer they bring out corn hole. After we finally got our growlers of beer filled (I opted for Susan, Edward, and Brother Soigne), we decided to part ways for different plans.

For my friend and I, that meant driving back towards Waterbury and hitting up the Ben & Jerry’s factory. We got there right before they closed and took a quick half hour tour of the facility. It was $4 and honestly was a little lame. You don’t get to actually walk around. You watch a movie and then look through windows into the production rooms. But at least you get a sample of ice cream at the end. We bought some ice cream to eat and purchased some souvenirs before driving to our place in South Burlington and calling it a day.

The next day we spent most of our time in Burlington. We walked around the waterfront for really pretty views of Lake Champlain and got a maple donut at Donut Dilemma. Then we walked towards downtown and did some shopping along Church St. Marketplace. We tried to get brunch at Penny Cluse but the line was 2 hours long so we went next door to Lucky Next Door. There was no line and the owner is the same as Penny’s so the food was just as great. I ordered a breakfast sandwich and he ordered the avocado toast and posole soup. We rounded out our time downtown by doing a whiskey sampling at Mad River Distillers where they had many ryes and rums with hints of maple, coffee, and apple brandy. A tasting of 4 was only $6 as well!

Following our downtown excursion, guess what we decided to do? SURPRISE! Hit up more breweries. We went to Fiddlehead Brewing first, which is a tiny little “brewery” that basically only had an IPA on tap and Second Fiddle (a DIPA) in cans for sale. They make some pretty solid beer though and I was happy to sample and buy some cans. Apparently the pizza next door is delicious too but we didn’t have time to try any.

We then drove to Magic Hat which is one of the original breweries in the area. It’s a quirky brewery with a unique self-guided tour. It was basically like walking into a haunted house. They had 15 beers on tap to sample but you were only allowed to try up to 4. I had the #9 before and thought it was decent. The Low Key was also a nice session IPA but I really enjoyed the specialty ones (whose names i can’t currently remember).

For dinner, we were wiped and decided to go to Windjammer Pub for some steak and seafood. I ordered a seafood bake and tried the Zero Gravity Moondance pale ale. There were so many local beers to try and I wish I had the tolerance to drink more.

Now we’ve covered two of the three main breweries on our trip. The last one, Lawson’s Finest, was a bit tricky. They don’t allow visitors at their actual facility. Which means they solely distribute. Which also means it’s sort of a rat race trying to figure out who has them in stock. Thankfully they’re pretty transparent on their website, noting which days are delivered at which stores. On a Sunday, I was beginning to lose hope in finding Sip of Sunshine. Every place in Burlington had sold out since their distribution was on Wednesday. I managed to snag some Super Session IPA at a grocery store but was still a little sad about the lack of SOS.

Then my friends (who we met up with earlier) came to the rescue. They had left that day to head back down to CT and said they were able to get a whole case in Montpelier at a small liquor store called Yankee Spirits. So come Monday morning, I gave them a quick call to confirm they still had some, and then we left bright and early to go hunt it down. We had already planned on hanging out in Montpelier a bit so it worked out perfectly.

After finally fulfilling our quest for beer, we ate a quick breakfast at the Skinny Pancake. They make delicious crepes and I had the Deja Vu with sausage, egg, New England apples,  and Vermont cheddar. My friend got the Localvore’s Dream which is also one of their most popular ones. We walked around the area after that, buying some souvenirs like maple syrup and checking out the State House. Then it was time to finally make the long drive home, our car much heavier with growlers and cases of beer.

Vermont and its cities are quiet, quaint, and surprisingly fun. It’s the perfect weekend getaway, especially for beer aficionados or even ski bums due to the large number of resorts. I definitely hope to go back in the summer when the weather is warmer and more outdoor activities like hiking and boat rides are available.

Too bad summer is still 4 months away but until then, I have plenty of beer to keep me busy. Or drunk.