My maternal grandparents moved back to Austria before I was born and we never visited. My paternal grandfather died when my father was 10 years old, so I certainly never knew him. And though I was 3 when my paternal grandmother died, I have absolutely no memory of her either.
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I’m told this is a picture of her standing in the backyard rose garden of this house….
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But honestly, neither the person nor the house stir any warm fuzzies in my prefrontal cortex.
When my mother died almost a decade ago we took a trip back to my hometown in New Jersey. The state gets a bad rap, and though most of it is well deserved… there are some lovely areas scattered here and there and thankfully I grew up in one.
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We walked north of town…
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Along the river….
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And found my grandparent’s house.
Still in the thick of early grief for my mother, I stood outside this nicely restored and clearly well loved home and cried. The new owners saw me, came outside to investigate and warmly welcomed us … complete strangers! …. inside for a full three story tour.
Don’t believe everything you hear about people from Jersey. This couple was grace personified.
We exchanged stories and histories and they were very sweet to an only child who had just lost her mom. The new owners expressed interest in my old family photos of the house and I promised to email them when we got back home.
So while I don’t have any grandparent memories of this particular house?
I do have nice new memories of the compassionate and caring young couple who live there now…. and that’s fine with me.
An hour and a half in and we were still exploring.
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Which is where we found this mini pyramid.
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It’s basically the same kind of stone my husband used to build my garden bed last year so I suggested perhaps he could build me one of these this year.
He pretended he didn’t hear me, but my memory is long and I have patience.
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Every now and then there was a bench.
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But we were always moving and didn’t dawdle.
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Dappled shade is good for ferns. Add soil too wet to walk over and it’s damn near perfect.
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I have to say I was looking forward to the rhododendron section of the trail. A forest full of rhodies?
Bring it!
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If you’re wondering why the husband looks slightly puzzled? It’s because we were right in the middle of the supposed rhododendron section but didn’t know it.
After doing a 360, you can see why we were confused.
Daytime temperatures are warm but not hot. Nights are cool and there’s no humidity. The tourists have started to arrive but haven’t yet overwhelmed the state.
But the best part of early June in Maine?
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Rhododendron season. (Please note I have color coordinated my hanging baskets of geraniums… momma didn’t raise no fool)
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We have two large bushes in the front of our house and they never fail to put on a show. They even have it timed so one blooms after the other for a longer burst of color.
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I trimmed this one back last year and was a little worried I’d done it at the wrong time.
The weather was perfect. The tourists were nowhere to be seen. And my husband is still retired… for now. So I stuffed him in the car and we crossed something off my endless Things To Do In Maine bucket list.
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Viles Arboretum. A 224 acre non profit botanic garden run by the state which conserves wetlands, forest and fields and offers free access to anyone wanting to enjoy miles of nature trails.
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There were sculptures scattered throughout.
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Most of which were for sale. Though for $15,000, we decided to pass.
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Most of the walking was easy and the boardwalks over the wet areas were quite welcome.
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If you know my husband, you know he has to stop and read every single word of every single plaque about every single tree.
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Scrap metal bird sculpture. Lord Dudley would be terrified.
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It was a lovely way to spend the day and we leisurely strolled through meadows that turned to marsh…
River's world..... 