Cliff and I celebrated our 12th anniversary on June 23, 2013 by going driving to Lake Chautauqua, located about two hours north of us in New York State. When Cliff and I began dating in 2000 he introduced me to obscure haunts like Heart’s Content in Tionesta to hike the trails lined with virgin timber and Hector Falls with beautiful rocks and waterfalls. I introduced him to Bedford Village, The Struthers Library Theatre, the Carnegie Museum of Art and Natural History and Lake Chautauqua.
I became acquainted with The Chautauqua Institute in the 1980’s when I attended an opera with some friends. The institute was founded by a group of Methodists in the late 1880’s to overcome boredom and to challenge people’s minds with religion, philosophy, art and culture. The streets are lined with quaint summer houses and apartments that are beautifully landscaped with hostas, geraniums, impatients and other shade loving plants. The lake spans the community with docks and a swimming area. A bell tower edges the water and rings every hour and half hour. There’s a ground model of the holy land with mounds representing Mount Hebron, Bethlehem, Jerusalem. Every summer I try to return at least one time to get a taste of culture and breathe the fresh air of the higher elevation.
We travel to Chautauqua from our place in Ridgway via the Allegheny National Forest and through Warren, Pa. Right before the Bob Evens Restaurant we take a shortcut to Sugar Grove, the sweetest little town in America, where we get on route 69 which is a straight shot right to the edge of the lake. We turn left 394 which goes through Stow, Pa. On the left is a Barbara Berry's Used Book Barn that spans seventy or eighty yards. Cliff and I found it on our first trip up as we are always on the lookout for bookstores, which unfortunately are becoming obscure with the advent of Kindle and the ability to buy books online.
On our first stop at the book store we lost each other. I wandered around sections that interested me and he wandered around sections that interested him. He unearthed an Eric Sloane books and found me in a nearby section perusing a book on nature, Through the Swamp by Gene Stratton Porter. He noticed the author and said “My mom loved her book. I have her fiction books, Freckles and A Girl of the Limberlost. Can I buy you that book?”
I replied “No thanks, I’ll pay for it.” It was only 10.00 and wasn’t going to break my pocket book.
With frustration he said “Can’t I buy you anything but dinner when we go out?”
On our first stop at the book store we lost each other. I wandered around sections that interested me and he wandered around sections that interested him. He unearthed an Eric Sloane book and found me in a nearby section perusing a book on nature, Through the Swamp by Gene Stratton Porter. He noticed the author and said “My mom loved her book. I have her fiction books, Freckles and A Girl of the Limberlost. Can I buy you that book?”
I replied “No thanks, I’ll pay for it.” It was only 10.00 and wasn’t going to break my pocket book.
With frustration he said “Can’t I buy you anything but dinner when we go out?”
I had made it a point not to depend on Cliff financially as I didn’t want him or myself to think I was interested in him for money. There was so much more that I admired about him, his thoughtfulness, his sensitivity, his adventurousness, his appreciation for the outdoors and nature, his interest in literature, his loyalty to morals and values. When we checked out of the bookstore I handed him the book to pay for.
I later learned that Gene Stratton Porter was most known for her fictions books, but preferred writing about nature. http://www.classicreader.com/author/191/about/ When her books became well known she told the publisher that she wouldn’t write any more books about fiction unless her books on nature were published, one being Through the Swamp. I think the book title interested me because I had just been through the swamp of a bad marriage, a divorce and a bad religion. To my delight the book was all about nature and what can be learned in a swamp.
Twelve years later, to our dismay the bookstore was for sale. As we entered we mourned the thought that this could be our last stop here if it closed. The good news was that all the books were only 2.00 each. As usual, we both went our separate ways and I found some free books on a table outside the store. There was an autobiography about cancer and a man who found humor therapeutic. My ex-husband has been battling cancer for the last five years and my youngest son Caleb is living with him. Caleb talks to me about his dad and told me they like to joke around. I thought of them when I picked it up. I found a book on archetypes, and a summer read for my twelve year old grandaughter. Cliff found an interesting book on woodworking. When we checked out, with Cliff paying the bill, the owner told us paperbacks were only 1.00.
I returned to the bookstore and retrieved a small paperback that had caught my eye earlier, Heart of Stone by Renate Dorrestein, a Dutch author. The setting of the book is in Holland and there are references to dissociative identity disorder. Although the book is fiction, it's based on some actual happenings. I'm thinking of contacting the author to see if she would be interested in being a ghost writer.
After the book store we went to the Chautauqua and wandered around some of the shops. I found a ocarina in a fair trade store. The shops were a little crowded and I reminded myself that we were there to enjoy the lake, not to shop. It was noon and we were a little hungry. I recalled a little deli that was there years ago when I attended a Mary Chapin Carpenter concert, but was unable to locate it. The deli served hearty sandwiches on whole grain bread, sprouts, cream cheese and shredded carrots. I remember the patina of the wood floors and the screen door that squeaked as customers went in and out.
The only food places we found were upscale and in the town square. We settled on a chicken bbq that was sponsored by the Chautauqua Fire Department. Cliff's shingles were bothering him so we tried to stay in the shade. We found a bench under a grove of trees to enjoy our chicken dinner. Afterwards we walked down to the lake. Cliff stayed in the shade areas while I meandered to the edge of the lake. It felt good to get to take off my sandals and walk a few hundred yards on the sandy edge of the lake. The cool water and pebbles under my feet was refreshing. I found large rock to sit on and watched the boats for a while and practiced some notes on the ocarina. Cliff said it sounded beautiful. I think I'll take it to Oregon and play some tunes on the Pacific Ocean.
After enjoying the water, we headed up to the amphitheater for the free Sunday concert. The American Legion Tonawanda Concert Band was playing. We were a little early, so I delved into the new book while Cliff rested his eyes as the band tuned up. The performance was outstanding. I didn't get the name of the gentleman who sang "Bring Him Home" from Les Miserables. A friend had just told me about his son serving in Afghanistan and one of the men in his unit was killed while skyping with his wife. I was in tears thinking of all the soldiers serving in Afghanistan and places of conflict. The concert ended on a light note with John Philip Sousa marches and a Dixie tune.
We drove up to Mayville and stopped at a seafood restaurant that wasn't so great. We should of gone to Webb's where Cliff enjoyed his first taste of goat cheese on spinach salad when we were dating. It was a memorable 12th anniversary of our life together.
I became acquainted with The Chautauqua Institute in the 1980’s when I attended an opera with some friends. The institute was founded by a group of Methodists in the late 1880’s to overcome boredom and to challenge people’s minds with religion, philosophy, art and culture. The streets are lined with quaint summer houses and apartments that are beautifully landscaped with hostas, geraniums, impatients and other shade loving plants. The lake spans the community with docks and a swimming area. A bell tower edges the water and rings every hour and half hour. There’s a ground model of the holy land with mounds representing Mount Hebron, Bethlehem, Jerusalem. Every summer I try to return at least one time to get a taste of culture and breathe the fresh air of the higher elevation.
We travel to Chautauqua from our place in Ridgway via the Allegheny National Forest and through Warren, Pa. Right before the Bob Evens Restaurant we take a shortcut to Sugar Grove, the sweetest little town in America, where we get on route 69 which is a straight shot right to the edge of the lake. We turn left 394 which goes through Stow, Pa. On the left is a Barbara Berry's Used Book Barn that spans seventy or eighty yards. Cliff and I found it on our first trip up as we are always on the lookout for bookstores, which unfortunately are becoming obscure with the advent of Kindle and the ability to buy books online.
On our first stop at the book store we lost each other. I wandered around sections that interested me and he wandered around sections that interested him. He unearthed an Eric Sloane books and found me in a nearby section perusing a book on nature, Through the Swamp by Gene Stratton Porter. He noticed the author and said “My mom loved her book. I have her fiction books, Freckles and A Girl of the Limberlost. Can I buy you that book?”
I replied “No thanks, I’ll pay for it.” It was only 10.00 and wasn’t going to break my pocket book.
With frustration he said “Can’t I buy you anything but dinner when we go out?”
On our first stop at the book store we lost each other. I wandered around sections that interested me and he wandered around sections that interested him. He unearthed an Eric Sloane book and found me in a nearby section perusing a book on nature, Through the Swamp by Gene Stratton Porter. He noticed the author and said “My mom loved her book. I have her fiction books, Freckles and A Girl of the Limberlost. Can I buy you that book?”
I replied “No thanks, I’ll pay for it.” It was only 10.00 and wasn’t going to break my pocket book.
With frustration he said “Can’t I buy you anything but dinner when we go out?”
I had made it a point not to depend on Cliff financially as I didn’t want him or myself to think I was interested in him for money. There was so much more that I admired about him, his thoughtfulness, his sensitivity, his adventurousness, his appreciation for the outdoors and nature, his interest in literature, his loyalty to morals and values. When we checked out of the bookstore I handed him the book to pay for.
I later learned that Gene Stratton Porter was most known for her fictions books, but preferred writing about nature. http://www.classicreader.com/author/191/about/ When her books became well known she told the publisher that she wouldn’t write any more books about fiction unless her books on nature were published, one being Through the Swamp. I think the book title interested me because I had just been through the swamp of a bad marriage, a divorce and a bad religion. To my delight the book was all about nature and what can be learned in a swamp.
Twelve years later, to our dismay the bookstore was for sale. As we entered we mourned the thought that this could be our last stop here if it closed. The good news was that all the books were only 2.00 each. As usual, we both went our separate ways and I found some free books on a table outside the store. There was an autobiography about cancer and a man who found humor therapeutic. My ex-husband has been battling cancer for the last five years and my youngest son Caleb is living with him. Caleb talks to me about his dad and told me they like to joke around. I thought of them when I picked it up. I found a book on archetypes, and a summer read for my twelve year old grandaughter. Cliff found an interesting book on woodworking. When we checked out, with Cliff paying the bill, the owner told us paperbacks were only 1.00.
I returned to the bookstore and retrieved a small paperback that had caught my eye earlier, Heart of Stone by Renate Dorrestein, a Dutch author. The setting of the book is in Holland and there are references to dissociative identity disorder. Although the book is fiction, it's based on some actual happenings. I'm thinking of contacting the author to see if she would be interested in being a ghost writer.
After the book store we went to the Chautauqua and wandered around some of the shops. I found a ocarina in a fair trade store. The shops were a little crowded and I reminded myself that we were there to enjoy the lake, not to shop. It was noon and we were a little hungry. I recalled a little deli that was there years ago when I attended a Mary Chapin Carpenter concert, but was unable to locate it. The deli served hearty sandwiches on whole grain bread, sprouts, cream cheese and shredded carrots. I remember the patina of the wood floors and the screen door that squeaked as customers went in and out.
The only food places we found were upscale and in the town square. We settled on a chicken bbq that was sponsored by the Chautauqua Fire Department. Cliff's shingles were bothering him so we tried to stay in the shade. We found a bench under a grove of trees to enjoy our chicken dinner. Afterwards we walked down to the lake. Cliff stayed in the shade areas while I meandered to the edge of the lake. It felt good to get to take off my sandals and walk a few hundred yards on the sandy edge of the lake. The cool water and pebbles under my feet was refreshing. I found large rock to sit on and watched the boats for a while and practiced some notes on the ocarina. Cliff said it sounded beautiful. I think I'll take it to Oregon and play some tunes on the Pacific Ocean.
After enjoying the water, we headed up to the amphitheater for the free Sunday concert. The American Legion Tonawanda Concert Band was playing. We were a little early, so I delved into the new book while Cliff rested his eyes as the band tuned up. The performance was outstanding. I didn't get the name of the gentleman who sang "Bring Him Home" from Les Miserables. A friend had just told me about his son serving in Afghanistan and one of the men in his unit was killed while skyping with his wife. I was in tears thinking of all the soldiers serving in Afghanistan and places of conflict. The concert ended on a light note with John Philip Sousa marches and a Dixie tune.
We drove up to Mayville and stopped at a seafood restaurant that wasn't so great. We should of gone to Webb's where Cliff enjoyed his first taste of goat cheese on spinach salad when we were dating. It was a memorable 12th anniversary of our life together.
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