Wednesday, July 21, 2010

A Guilford State of Mind

The Guilford Marina in the town I grew up in, next to where I live now. This is the public marina, though I'm sure there is a waiting list for berths. There are a couple of private marinas and yacht clubs in town as well. We kept our boats here more than 40 years ago... I'm not a boat person at all though. I love to LOOK at the water but am very, very uncomfortable ON the water. Funny because I spent a lot of time in boats growing up, and all of my friends were into sailing.


Typical decor for New England seafood restaurants, thick boat lines/ropes, lobster pot buoys and uncared for petunias, lol. I could have done quite a bit of deadheading here today. That's a typical Connecticut saltwater marsh behind the deck, in which you'll find all sorts of shellfish, crabs, and little fish, as well as wading birds like Egrets and Herons. At low tide, the smell of the mudflats is, um, interesting, definitely an acquired taste. Mary brought me out for lunch and a drive around my former town, including a trip to my parent's cemetery. It was a really nice afternoon.

The marina in the top photo is in a small inlet off the Long Island Sound. Several small streams or rivulets lead off from the Sound into the saltwater marshes. In this one, a pair of Swans and a small Cormorant can be seen. Did you know that Swans mate for life? At one time. I worked in an office building that was on a small lake, and we had several pairs of swans one year. A female was killed in the spring by a coyote or a dog, and its mate stayed next to her dead body for two full days, never swimming more than a few feet away. We finally called Animal Control in town and had them take the carcass away. The male then swam alone for the rest of the summer, always fairly far away from the other swan pairs. It was sort of sad to see, but also sort of wonderful in a way, that creatures so many see as 'beneath' us in the scheme of things, have innate traits we hold as purely human. Both swan parents take turns watching the signets when they arrive, sharing the duty equally, a trait more humans SHOULD have. 

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Not too far away from the Sound is the Henry Whitfield State Museum, or the Old Stone House, built in 1639, the year our town was settled. It's the oldest stone house in New England. Guilford, the town my family moved to in the late 1700s, was settled by a group of people led by the Reverend Henry Whitfield that found Plymouth Colony a bit too religiously strict and moved south. The house is one of the oldest state-funded historical museums in Connecticut, having been given to the town in the early 1900s. It has been restored at various times in its history, some that weren't terribly authentic. It's pretty much original now, though there are people that disagree. In any case, it's a gorgeous example of the architecture of the very earliest homes built in the New World, which emulated the medieval homes back in England that the founders had left behind. The wooden shingle home in the background was the groundskeepers home, but is now another part of the museums collection of antiques. Guilford has approximately a dozen other homes built in the 1600s, all wooden. My absolute dream, even above a huge loft in Manhattan, would be to live in one of these severely primitive and stark first period 17th century homes. My family's old home was built in 1766, a second period home, and I'd settle for that, lol.

6 comments:

  1. BEAUTIFUL and so so interesting. Thank you for taking us along on your outing! I was just thinking I wish I could "smell" the marsh that you talked about and then...you made the remark about the mudflats...hmm, maybe I will just imagine...all I can think of is what a boggy farm pond smell likes!! ha! It fills up ones nostrils with a stifling thickness of scent!
    How fascinating to see buildings that were built so long ago.
    I agree that it is so sad about swans (and geese) They will mourn the loss of their mate...and animal or not, that is so hard to see.
    mare

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  2. To me the fun in traveling is exploring all the history associated with the area your visiting - you would be a great tour guide - LOL - thanks for the interesting story

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  3. this area is so filled with history. i've always been interested in it, the 'real' history and the anecdotal stories associated with certain houses and areas. I really love this part of Connecticut.

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  4. CASEY, I'M WITH YOU. I'D EVEN GIVE UP MY DREAM OF A LOG CABIN TO HAVE ONE OF THOSE OLD NEW ENGLAND STONE HOMES. I'M NOT TO SURE IF I'D ENJOY THE OLD AGE SMELLS.MY BROTHER OWNS THE OLD FARM HOUSE OF MY GRANPARENTS AND THE SMELL.YUK. I DON'T THINK HE EVEN SMELLS THE STINK. HE'S AS NEAT AS A PERSON CAN BE AND A LITTLE BIT LIKE A HERMIT [NOT IN THE RELIGIOUS WAY] JUST LIKES TO BE ALONE. HE'S 80 YEARS OLD. THE BEST BROTHER A SISTER COULD HAVE TO BRAG ABOUT. I UNDERSTAND HIM, MAYBE THAT'S WHY WE LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH. HE'S DEAF IN BOTH EARS SO WHEN HE DOESN'T WANT TO LISTEN TO YOU HE JUST TURNED HIS HEARING AIDS OFF. I BELIEVE HE WENT DEAF WHILE IN THE SERVICE DURING THE KOREAN WAR. DAMM WARS. HE'D GIVE YOU THE SHIRT OFF HIS BACK BUT WON'T SPEND A PENNY ON HIMSELF EXCEPT FOR FOOD. EVEN THEN HE PICKS AND CHOOSE. OUR LITTLE CHURCH WE GREW UP IN IS A POOR CHURCH AND IT'S HARD TO GET ENOUGH MONEY AT TIMES FLOWING TO PAY THE BILLS BUT MY BROTHER NEVER FORGOT WHERE HE CAME FROM, HE ALWAYS GIVES THE CHURCH CASH IN HAND TO HELP OUT. DID I SAY HE DOESN'T ATTEND CHURCH BUT LOVES THE LORD. HE ALWAYS SAYS IT THE LEAST I CAN DO FOR OUR MOMS' CHURCH. GOOD MAN. A TEAR DROPPED.

    GRANNY

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  5. your brother sounds as nice as you are, Granny. He's exactly the opposite of 'church' people that drive me crazy, the ones that make a big show out of going TO church and making sure everyone sees the $20 bill they put in the plate and then treat everyone like crap outside of church. my mother used to joke that the most dangerous place to be on a sunday morning was a church parking lot—everyone trying to be the first one out of the parking lot would run you right over if you weren't watching. we weren't church goers at all, never in fact, but my parents made sure we studied all the religions so we'd have a base of knowledge if we decided it was something we wanted to do as adults. they believed in a god, but not to any specific religion's version of it. they helped everyone they could, volunteering, cooking for people, paying bills for elderly if they needed it. my mother was an RN and even after she retired she kept visiting her elderly patients making sure they filled out their paperwork correctly and weren't being ignored by the town. my dad drove the senior citizen bus once a week taking them food shopping, and ended up helping so many of them the other days of the week when he saw the way some had to live because of their limited incomes, fixing broken windows, shingles, garage doors...

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  6. NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. YOU HIT SOME CHURCH FOLK RIGHT ON THE HEAD. I'VE SEEN IT ALL MY LIFE ALSO. FOR ME WHEN I COULD GO TO CHURCH THERE WAS A CERTAIN FEELING I ALWAYS GOT WHEN I WOULD ENTER THE FRONT DOOR. IT'S ALWAYS BEEN IN ME. I DON'T REALLY CARE WHAT OTHERS BELIEVE. IF THEY BELIEVE THE WAY I DO I COULD SHARE SO MANY STORIES. MOM LIVED FOR OUR LITTLE CHURCH. SO MUCH SO, DAD SAID TO HER ONE DAY, WHY DON'T YOU PACK A BAG AND MOVE IN OVER THERE. THE CHURCH WAS JUST AROUND THE CORNER. THERE WAS A CLICK OF WOMEN [MOM BEING PART OF THE CLICK]THAT ONE WOULD SAY RAN THINGS. BUT IN A GOOD WAY. I FOUND OUT THE PEOPLE THAT RUN THINGS ARE THE ONES THAT GET THINGS DONE. FOR ME, I NEVER ENJOYED BEING THE HEAD OF THE TEAM. LIKE MY ONE BROTHER I ALWAYS LIKE TO JUST DO, WITH NO ONE KNOWING WHAT I DID. IT'S THE BEST WAY I THINK. YOUR MOM AND DAD WERE GODS ANGELS. MY MOM NEVER LOCKED HER DOORS EVER. IF SOMEONE NEEDED A PLACE TO LIE THEIR HEAD THE HOUSE WAS A WELCOME MAT. NOT TODAY YOU CAN'T TRUST FOLK LIKE THE GOOD OLD DAYS.DURING THE 2ND WORLD WAR. MOM AND DAD OPEN UP OUR HOUSE TO THE SOLDIERS THAT WERE STATION AT THE ARMY BASE NEAR US. THEIR WIVES WOULD LIVE WITH US SO THEY COULD BE NEAR THEIR HUBBIES. IT WASN'T JUST OUR HOME IT WAS MANY FOLK FROM THE CHURCHES THAT OPEN THEIR HOMES.I WAS JUST A LITTLE GIRL AND THERE WAS THIS ONE LADY THAT LIVED WITH US AND I CAN'T REMEMBER HER NAME. ANYWAYS ,I USED TO LOVE TO RUN UP THE STAIRS TO HER ROOM AND WATCH HER GET READY FOR HER HUSBANDS' VISIT. ONE DAY SHE WAS PUTTING NAIL POLISH ON.[DEEP RED] PRETTY AS CAN BE. SHE LOOKED MY WAY AND SHE SAID TO ME IF I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE THAT BOTTLE OF POLISH. I DID AND SHE GAVE IT TO ME. I RAN AND GOT ONE OF MY DOLLS AND PAINTER HER FINGERNAILS WITH THE PRETTY RED COLOR. YES, YOU GUESS IT. I STILL HAVE THAT DOLL. ALL BECAUSE OF A LITTLE CHURCH AROUND THE CORNER. NOT ALL ABOUT MONEY. GOOD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD FOLK.

    ENJOY YOUR DAY. I AM.

    GRANNY

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