...it seems like the minute i drive away at the end of a visit i'm looking forward to our next trip, no matter how long our stay has been. it's a place where i feel my head clear, and a sense of calm. a peacefulness that comes from being completely removed from the business of life. it isn't anything fancy, of course - a farmhouse and some outbuildings built in the 1850s, but to much of my family, it's home.
my grandparents purchased 200 acres in rural central New York, right on Lake Ontario, during the 1950s, in part as a way to keep my father and his sisters away from summer in the city when polio was a concern. my grandmother and all 5 children would spend the entire summer there, with my grandfather coming back on the weekends. my father tells of walking down the hill to a nearby cherry orchard, working along migrants and earning 2 cents a pound. i love looking at the photos of my father and aunts as children during their summers there.
my father, 1949
my father & aunts (early 1960s)
it looks much today like it did back then - outhouse, no running hot water (dishwasher, washer...), though there have been many improvements as well. i spent half my summers there throughout childhood, and the times surrounded by my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, sisters and father are among my most treasured memories. when i needed to escape college life, i'd head there. and when i feel like i just can't wait to get back, when it's been far too long, it's time again to visit.
the beach
playhouse
chicken coop
art outside
i hope ben comes to treasure this place in his own way.
