Earlier in the day, I’d called Beth from Massachusetts, where I was beginning my jaunt back to Vermont and was suffering from a day-long headache. We’d agreed on a diagnosis: lack of a Saturday latte.

I remedied with the biggest maple latte I could get and left Beth a voicemail: “How cute! In Massachusetts, the latte comes up on the register as VT maple latte! Vermont!”

(For the record: headache gone after half the cup. I think this means I’m officially hooked on the stuff.)

About, um, 12 hours later, Beth prepared to turn in for the night. As usual, we agreed to meet up during the day for a latte.

BETH: So you can get another VT maple latte?
VICTORIA: I loved that. Viva Vermont!
BETH: Or, um, venti…
VICTORIA: Oh. Wait. Uh. Ohmigod. VT.
BETH: I was wondering when you were going to pick up on that…

The quick hit upon the weekend: turkey is grand, chickpeas are a bitch to mash, the Bruins game Friday was a fabulous time for everyone but the Bruins, I recommend “Stranger Than Fiction” (which means Stuart was right) and there are a slew of new photos in the flickr account.