I started my holiday gently, with a tour of the neighbourhood. We strolled through the park, with its lake (frozen in winter; there's skating, and bonfire parties, and a dedicated sledging hill for children) and its monument to lumber tycoon and local benefactor Henry Crandall. I saw a turtle! (it always seems to surprise Americans that we don't have them at home) and learned the difference between the call of a happy chickadee and an angry one.
We made a very important stop to photograph the police station, which features in The Spy Who Loved Me, and I had an equally important sit in an Adirondack chair. Then it was off to the town's Artistic Quarter to celebrate a 50th birthday in an art gallery. Frieda had brought homemade bread rolls. There was pulled pork and French toast, and I chatted with Bea, a former teacher who lived in NYC for 65 years before moving here as a change of pace.
Frieda was working a Sunday afternoon shift at her library job, so I spent some quality time in her hammock before heading over to the library for closing time. I was allowed to take out a library card, so I am now a proud member of Crandall Public Library. We finished the day in one of the town's several brew pubs, where I was amused to see Strongbow on the Specials board but chose a local fruit beer instead.