Along a Shore Road

A walk along a shore road, had me viewing many various styles of architecture.  No two were alike.  However, I did come to a block where the homes began from the same cookie cutter but each now had its own personality.  All began as raised hip roof cottages on stilts to protect them from rising ocean waters in a hurricane. Some showed their personality with color, others added a roof deck to catch the sunrise and sunset.

Others raised the roof and added a second story.

A historic home, perhaps the oldest on the beach, caught my eye.  It had been built in the 1930's.  It looked as if it had begun as a gambrel roof, shingled cottage but full length dormers were added to give more space.

Spotting that beach house made me curious about the age of the others.

The fisherman's bungalow, below, is probably from the late 1940s. 

Homes, minimal in style and traditional in design, with a low pitched roof were popular after the end of World War II.  

Again, a cottage.  This one with a higher peak 

roofline,  a fireplace,

french doors, and a trellis. Giving it a more southern colonial style, but built  a little later than the one above.

Oh those glorious 50's!

A ranch style home raised from the ground. Still sporting a cement cinderblock wall.

There are not many A Frame homes around.  They were popular in America during the 50's 60's and reached their peak in popularity in the 70's.  This one has the weather stained cedar shingle, giving it a 'beachy' feel.  The A Frame, or chalet, style has been used forever in alpine areas because snow would easily slide off the steep pitched roof.

                                    

Their loss in popularity at vacation areas and resorts was mainly because of the

Condominium.  

There will always be people who want a home of their own.

It could be a Cape Cod style,

a Colonial Revival,

an  Antebellum.  

or the hurricane resistant, wind shield fenced, eclectic home of today.

As long as it has a porch to feel the summer breeze and hear the waves breaking, they should be happy!

Valley Green

My favorite place to go for a walk is along the Wissahickon Creek in Chestnut Hill.  A snow storm cancelled plans for heading any further south for the winter and made for a few unplanned days in Philadelphia.  The feel of snow was in the air, bitter cold, but not breezy. Bundled up, it was a perfect time to head to Valley Green with my Daisy-Dog.

                                                            
Driving down the steep incline to the Valley, I  passed stone walls covered with ice,

wooden bridges and hillside paths.

  After crossing over an old stone bridge, I arrived.

I heard the sound of water splashing over the stones,  the quack of ducks, the clip-clop and neighing of horses. 

All I could think was 'what is better than this?'  Then, I thought, 'I must get back to writing my blog. This beauty must be shared!'

Valley Green is part of the Philadelphia Park system and a section of Fairmont Park.  Where I like to wander, was first home to the Lenape Indians.  The land had been given to William Penn by King Charles II of England and the first settlers to arrive along the Wissahickon were from Germany and were a community known as 'Hermits or Mystics of the Wissahickon',.  As a little girl, I remember pretending to be an Indian, running and hiding along the hills or looking for the caves where the 'Hermit' lived.  Of course, my friend, Linda, nieces and I had no idea that we were reenacting history and those people actually lived along this creek hundreds of years ago.

As I strolled along the bridle path following the creek, I thought of the Indian statue hidden high in the hills.  His name is Tedyuscung where the Lenapes were supposed to have held their pow-wows.  Many times I have tried to find him but never have.



  I did spot remnants of ancient stone walls where                   more than 50 watermills once stood.

Some milled grains or gunpowder, others cloth or paper. As I walked along, I could not imagine that ever occurring in this  tranquil setting.

I had read that Benjamin Franklin talked about the clear fresh water from the Wissahickon.  In his will, he had made suggestions that the creek be the source of drinking water for the town of Philadelphia and left money for this to be done. Eventually, the mills were torn down and the pure water returned. 

I can still see my children running along the path, stepping along the stones at the water's edge and drinking from the rock springs along the way.

The Valley Green Inn

seems like home to me.  Special occasions have been celebrated there with my family.  Whether it was  homecomings, 

weddings, rehearsal dinners, brunches, lunches 

or just a quiet dinner with my parents, it was a special place to go. One where I would end my meal with a slice of warm blueberry pie and a scoop of vanilla ice-cream. Comfort food and sitting by a fire, what is better?



Some would say that feeding the ducks is.  And, a trip to Valley Green must include a stop for a feeding.

When I was there, a lady had come with a large container of cereal grains.  She said with the upcoming storm, she wanted to make sure the ducks and geese had plenty of food. She made sure they did!

 No matter what season of the year, I happen to go there, I am moved by its' beauty, its' peacefulness,  it's sounds and smells.  Artists try to capture it with paint,

                    And writers try with words...

 Edgar Allan Poe wrote an essay titled "Morning on the Wissahiccon".  It begins, "Now the Wissahiccon is of so remarkable a loveliness that, were it flowing in England, it would be the theme of every bard, and the common topic of every tongue…"  

It is a scenic wonder, and a place I want to share. 

A Simple Little Jersey Dress

Shopping on Carnaby Street in London at the famed store, Biba's.  Buying lingerie at boutiques in Paris or dresses on 5th Avenue,
New York, the world was mine as a Pan Am stewardess.  Whatever was "hot" in the world was at my fingertips. At the time, the look was mod and mini and that is what I wanted. I would just schedule to be on a flight to that destination and buy or drool over the hot fashions... This was the 60's. 

By the 70's, I was home with two little children and a husband just finishing law school.  I was working part time and trying to make enough money to help pay our bills.  Now, clothing was something I borrowed. Luckily, my sister-in-law and friends were the same size and swapping clothes was something we always did.  One of my friends was working at a clothing boutique, and always wore the most cutting edge fashions.  At the time, I remember, Diane Von Furstenberg and her jersey dresses were the most sought after pieces to wear.  I had a rehearsal dinner to attend, and immediately went to Helena's closet to borrow one.

The dress fit perfectly and could be worn today, 35 years later and still look great.  The colors were just right for fall and the pattern, timeless.  From that night on, I have loved Diane Von Furstenburg fashions.  I think this was one of the first designs Diane Von Furstenburg had made and brought to America.  It was a shirtwaist dress and a classic, before her signature wrap dress became popular.

It was at least 25 years later before I actually bought my own wrap dress.  I remember the first night I wore it.  

Jimmy had taken me to a romantic little French restaurant.  I felt like a movie star wearing it and decided the wrap dress was going to remain in my wardrobe.
Since that first aqua and indigo blue jersey wrap dress,  I have bought others.  

Each time I wear one, I still feel as special as I did in the original.

          And, I still like to borrow and share the creations...

Yosemite

It is hard to believe a fire could be so massive as to have burned 357 square miles of the most breathtakingly gorgeous land  I have ever seen - Yosemite National Park. As I think back, I can see the giant sequoias,  the deer, the chipmunks and other little animals scampering, I can smell the pine forest, and feel the cool shade which the trees offered, 

I can hear the birds singing and the leaves rustling with the wind. Now, a blaze that began 16 days ago and is not expected to be contained for another 18 days has changed that land forever.

It's amazing how reading about this horrific fire, has sparked wonderful memories of a short vacation to visit my sister, Joan and her husband, Fred.  They were living not far from Yosemite and the highlight of my visit was an excursion into the Park.  A spot they had loved and wanted to share with me. The drive began with the red clay soil, and shrubbery of cactus and tumbleweed, becoming rolling hills that soon gave way to steep and winding narrow mountain roads and dense forrest on either side. It seemed as if we drove forever surrounded by lovely forestry.  But then, we were at the heart of Yosemite.  Looking up and seeing the massive waterfalls, 

                                                                                   Upper yosemitefall.jpg  nps.gov

being surrounded by the highest mountains and feeling so tiny in this, God's land.  What a beautiful creation...

We spent the day hiking and pretending to be Ansel Adams as we photographed so many of the sights which he had made famous with his black and white photography. 

We had lunch at, and toured the magnificent Ahwahneewww.yosemitepark.com/the-ahwahnee.aspx Hotel.  

Photo from the Ahwahnee website

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We saw campers and campgrounds, picnickers, hikers, climbers, photographers, artists, people reading, people meditating,  all breathing in the fresh air and the wonderment of this heavenly vista.

El Capitan.jpg  jspencerv.blogspot.com

Let's hope the fire can be extinguished soon, so future generations  can enjoy the majestic sites as I had seen them. 

Summer Sleepovers

With the recent death of my mother-in law, and seeing the loving feelings of my children as they mourned such an important person in their life, I think back to the fall of 1965 when my grandmother died and the wonderful memories I have of her...

Beatrice Margarite Harner

I see her charming white house with the big enclosed porch along the front with built in cushioned seats which lifted open to reveal a baby doll's cradle and a baby doll just waiting for me to hug.  I recall cool summer evening breezes and a cuckoo clock striking to tell me it was time for bed. 

It was always special to be able to go and stay for a few nights at her house.  I remember her teaching me how to sew on her Singer sewing machine with a treadle to make the needle go up and down.  
She would help me make doll clothes and when I got bored, she would finish sewing them herself. I may still have some of the outfits up in my attic. And I have the thimble she wore to protect  her finger when she stitched by hand.

                                                                                            Photo from Pintrest

I can see her at her piano playing hymns from the church hymnal and singing along.  I soon would be sitting beside her and learning to play.  I do think my love of old Christian hymns comes from my times with my Grandmom.  

The game of canasta was a card game she loved and, of course, she taught me how to play.  She had a little machine to shuffle the cards because she had lost the top half of her index finger while placing some freshly laundered clothing into the ringer of her washer.  

                                                                                               Photo from Pintrest

Her finger had gotten  caught and was severed, this made shuffling cards, by hand, impossible but I loved using this gadget because shuffling was beyond my skills.

During one of my sleepovers, I remember Grandmom taking me into her bedroom.  I can see her rooting through her jewelry box and taking out a beautiful gold ring with engraving on either side and a garnet stone in the center.  She gave it to me.  I wore it proudly telling everyone where I had gotten it.  Unfortunately, it is now lost.  But I
still have the sweet memory of her giving it to me.

Grandmom had two little chihuahua dogs.  They were little barkers and loved to show their teeth as they greeted me.  She would say they were smiling but I thought otherwise and was a little afraid of them.  She loved them and because of that, I learned to like them...reluctantly.

I can still taste her Thanksgiving turkey gravy and hear everyone commenting on how good it was.  I can see the table all set and the place where I would sit.  The day after was the real treat.  Grandmom and I headed into Philadelphia on the train to begin our Christmas shopping.  For me, it was her taking me to the
giant Woolworths to make my purchases.  For her, Wanamakers and Lit Brothers.

Sometimes, in the summer, my niece, Georgene, would be there with me. We watched my Grandpop as he worked in the garden.  We helped him  pick and carry in the fresh vegetables. Then Grandmom would make piccalilli relish -  the best part of any sandwich I have ever had.  In the evenings, we would sit out under the giant mimosa tree

Grandmom and Grandpop

Aunt Dew (Grandmom's sister) and Grandmom

in her backyard and swing on the hammock or glide on her garden glider 



and when the fireflies would come out, we would use her mason jars to catch them, making our own night lanterns.
             Photo from Pintrest

Photo from Pintrest

         

                             

                           

                                                                                                                       

A Little Bit of History

I should have worked at the Historical Commission for the state of Massachusetts.  I, so many times, have given tours of Plymouth Plantation, looked down at Plymouth Rock, walked the Freedom Trail in Boston, celebrated Patriot's Day in Lexington and Concord, and have been spooked by the Salem Witches.  All to show my large out of state family and group of friends our early American heritage.

One of my favorite destinations on the tours has always been been a lunch or dinner at Longfellow's Wayside Inn,  the oldest, still operating inn in this country.  The last time I had been there was when Jimmy and I had taken my mother-in-law there for her 85th birthday, she is now 93, and I had almost forgotten about this little gem. Last week, I was again in tour mode.  Three of my nieces were visiting and staying near Concord.  We decided to meet nearby at the Wayside Inn for dinner before they headed home.  We stepped back into history, having our own historic dining room with paneling, a fireplace and even flickering candles.  I recalled that some of 'Grandpop's' often quoted poems were written by Henry Wadworth Longfellow and were compiled in a book titled 'Tales of a Wayside Inn'. We could almost hear him reciting, "Listen my children and you shall hear of the midnight ride of Paul Revere".

Photo from Longfellowfriends.org

This led me to thinking about the day I had taken my father to see 

the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow home in Cambridge.  As we exited and walked down the street, he recited "Under the spreading chestnut tree....".  Little did we know at that time, I would soon move into the historic home of Nathaniel Longfellow, a cousin of Henry's, 

and have a beautiful spreading chestnut tree in my front yard.

Just think, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow could have been writing about that tree.