Pies and Pigs

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The air chill, orange-yellow-gold leaves twirling, the lush multi-hued colors of autumn fading, some trees already bare. Summer greens long gone. A time for Vermont foliage festivals and harvest celebrations. This past weekend, in Dummerston Center, under threat of rain, the annual pie festival. 1,500 delicious pies baked by loving hands, sold whole or by the slice, with cheddar cheese or ice cream. Pancake breakfast at the Firehouse. Crafts in the Grange Hall. Autumn’s harvest at the Miller Orchards farm stand. And this year, an extra treat – two sweet and rowdy cinnamon colored piglets housed for the day in the recreated dry-stone town livestock pound next to the historical museum. And throughout the day, hot cider and sweet apple pie to keep the crowds happy, and the damp cold at bay.


  1. Eia var jeg der / if only I could have been there. Fall is my favorite season, and the imagined scent of the pies – be it apple or cheddar cheese or both (why not!) – made me wish I could get on a flight across the Atlantic to-morrow, as I cannot imagine anywhere else more beautiful than your part of the world this time of year…



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