Summer Fridays 2012: Afternoon in the Garden

After the insanity of the last semester, particularly the last month, I decided to spend my first Summer Friday of the year just relaxing. After a morning of putting the house back in some semblance of order, I grabbed a book, some water, and headed to the New York Botanical Garden for an entire afternoon.

I had a lovely lunch al fresco at the Cafe, got a bit of sunburn on my neck, enjoyed the wi-fi, and was serenaded by birds while I people watched. Then I headed over to the Conservatory to check out the Monet's Garden exhibition. (So many people, even on a Friday afternoon. Can't wait to come back later in the season to see what the water lilies look like in the pond. But still lovely.)

Frankly, I didn't even care that a cloud cover had rolled in earlier in the afternoon, nor the little drops of rain, or the breezes. I found a bench off the walkway near the Ladies' Border, discovered the Concord Grape vines, kicked off my shoes, pulled on a wrap, and read my book. It was so good to unwind and perfect.

Can't wait to go back soon. My bag is ready to grab and go.

Enjoy some of these highlights from the day.

Wandering through Windham, May 2012

I miss the opportunities to just get a car and wander, so when I had some daylight hours left one night during the quicky Connecticut roadtrip, I wandered the roads around Windham.

Here's the "frog bridge" at dusk, aka Thread City Crossing, named in honor of Willimantic's agricultural and manufacturing past.

Why with the frogs on the spools? Why not? Weirder things have been used to symbolize things..

Related to the Frog Bridge, the historical Monument on Windham Center green, and the former cotton and American Thread mills, now studios, businesses, etc.

Some of my favorite features from some of my favorite Victorians up in the hills of town. Check out the house on the right. It is one of the two houses in town that had curved windows. When I was growing up, it used painted a forest green with white trim. At night, when the lights were lit, you could see into the house, and see the woodwork and the stairs up to the upper stories. There's also a turret on that house. At Christmas time, the curved bay window used to be filled with Christmas trees and lights. So magical. But SO MUCH HOUSE.

Headed out of town, on the historical Windham Center green, listed on the National Register of Historic Places:

Love the lttle library, and the views of the Windham Inn, and the neighboring pink mansion and "white house."

Don't you just love this little sliver of a building? It's a room of its own.

On the back roads through North Windham:

This is the weirdest farm fields I've ever seen. Goats, sheep, donkeys, and colored CANNONBALLS? Missed the name of it, but it was something religious.

Forget a two-car garage. What about two-tractor parking?

Happenings at the Homestead, May 2012

Dear 'rents and/or potential buyers of ye olde homestead,

I checked in on the homeplace recently. Everything looks good on the outside. Nature is blooming away.

The curbside hedge roses are growing like crazy

as are most of the bushes. Look at the azaleas*.

We are really hedging our bets on the backyard shrubs though.
It looks like natural windows are forming.

The impact from Irene is still evident. The tree (on the lot next door) overlooking the compost area/garden has a 7 - 10 split going on. From the upstairs windows, you can the right into the neighbors' lots on the other side of the block.

Max's homage to Monet's gardens are still growing off the kitchen corner.

While we may not be occupying the house full-time,
we did have some temporary tenants on the back porch.

So lovely but, sadly, I don't think that the parent birdies will like where I relocated the nest ... Though I think they had abandoned it as soon as visitors started coming through the back door again.

Again, everything looks great. The lawn's mowed, but you may need to ask the landscapers to watch the bees under the garage eaves by the doors. There may be carpenter bees or other bee species building honeycombs under there.

That's it for now.

Love,

The Roaming Nettie

6/10/12 *Yes, mother. I know those aren't azaleas, but rhododendrons. This was a test to see if anyone is still reading this. Apparently you are. So I should be more careful.

Dam it: Wandering through Windham, May 2012

And after a little longer Blogging Break than I anticipated, prepare for the posting floodgates to open again .....

I unexpectedly needed to spend some time back in CT with a friend and her family at the end of last month. It was a sad visit, and one evening, after an afternoon of rituals, family, friends, and food, I found a few hours of sunlight left to burn. Loathe to return to an empty house quite yet, I turned myself and the car loose on the back roads of CT.

Like a homing beacon, I felt drawn to a place where my father and I had spent quality time together. (Of course, it wasn't until I just typed that did I realize why I felt the need to revisit this particular setting from my childhood. Our sub-consciousnesses are strange.)

My brother has blogged about how our father has passed down the love of being on the water. He used to take us canoeing out at the local dam, and later used to spend hours out there kayaking--solo, or with a family member. The dam and park were also areas where we spent time parked with dad trying to hash out adolescent angst, or out on foot, walking around the high dam walls over by the airport -- processing many an issue, or in one notable case, ending a long-term relationship.

Of course, it'd been decades since I'd been out at the actual dam, and I got lost the first time. Not so much lost, as misdirected/overshot/needing to reattempt the entry. I circled around the back roads, through misty afternoon showers, summer sunsets, and then found the correct route to where I wanted to go.

I must have looked pretty strange, climbing up the steep stairs in a somber funeral dress, but I had to go, exchange the air in my lungs, breathe in the mist, and look over the horizon for some perspective.

The pounding of the waters through the sluice gates, the rush of the rapids down the river, the birds singing in the aftermath of a summer shower, and a light breeze up on the dike? As soothing to my soul as the sight of the rolling green hills of "home."

Since it was a quiet evening, and barely anyone was around, I also took a moment to explore the grounds of a converted mill building. When I was growing up, it was abandoned and not nearly in as good shape as this. Can't you picture what a reading nook/work studio would be up there in the clock tower? (I picture big comfy couches, wooden library desks, baskets of yarn ...) I think the windows open/bevel, so you could get a cross breeze and feel the mist off the river.

Back in the car, I headed back up the road to the boat launch area. A storm had gone through earlier and sunset was drawing close, but that hadn't stopped some intrepid kayakers, local fishermen, or others drawn to the water. With all the years that have passed, it's hard to remember how intimidated we were paddling through that culvert to the other side of the lake. Of course, we were smaller, and not as comfortable on the water as we are now. Sitting lower in a kayak helps too.

So dam it all ... Thanks Pop. Thanks for the time, patience, love of water, driving lessons, water lessons, life lessons, and so so so much more than I can say. Please take care of yourself and keep wearing that safety equipment when you are out on Sand Hollow. I'm not ready to cross the breakwater and deal with the rapids that my friend and her family just had to. K? Thanks.

Retroblogging 1980: June 4, 1980

6/4/80

I like to swim.

I love piano.

I like springtime.

I love flowers.

This year me and Jed will maybe get a trophy.

I like to run.

I like to wash the dishes.

I like to go to school.

I like to draw.

I like trees because they give us shade in the summer.

I like to dance.

I love my parents.

I like to eat.

I like to think.

Retroblogging 1980: June 3, 1980

6/3/80

I got sick Saturday.

I will go to piano at 3:30 today.

Summer school will start next week.

I like the fall.

I like math.

I'm glad I take piano lessons.

I lik my CTR ring and my CTR box.

I love my friends and my family.

I like the library.

I like church.

Butterflys are pretty.

I like summer.

I like sleep.

I still like sleep. Who doesn't?

I do, however, NOT like math.

Why was I keeping this notebook? Why are my mother's edits all over it? It was her way of keeping us on a schedule for the summer, pass some of the time in a very long day (for her), a way to keep up our reading and writing comprehension and our spelling skills sharp, and because we are a "journaling" religion.

Retroblogging: Silly Self Portraits, Age unknown

Sitting in the Rain

Self Portrait
Age Unknown, 5-7?

I've finally started tackling another bucket full of papers, drawings, and documents that my mother had saved from my childhood. While I've purged about two-thirds of it, there are many priceless gems that will be making their way here, including new letters from the Grandmas, self portraits like these, and lots more retroblogging.

There are also some "interesting" discoveries, like more dance class pictures (omh, me in tap shoes at 6 and a tiny tutu!), me trussed up like a goose in 6th grade by the ambulance guys, my mother's maternal ramblings about me when I was only weeks old, and .... um.... "locks" of my hair, like 34-35 year-old 6-8 inch hanks of my hair.

Thanks Mom for saving so much of my childhood, but the hair? Really?

Um... what do I do with it now?

(After much thought and discussion, I will bury it another pile of my crap for another 34 years or so. Procrastinate much? Who me?)