Living in a wooded area on the side of a hill sometimes can be challenging with the deer eating the vegetation I want to keep. You can read about their latest doings in the blogpost on Sept 2oth. But the pleasure of living among the wildife far out weighs the damage they do.
Here are some pictures taken in the past year.
One of the deer in the herd of eight that usually pass through.
Generally we wait for an Autumn frost to come along and kill the Summer flowers, but this year the killing of the flowers is being done by four-legged visitors.
A couple of weeks ago I opened the bedroom blinds in the morning to see all the beautiful soft pink waxed begonia had been eaten out of the pot that sits on top of the well cover. They didn't touch the upright plant that was also in the pot. I guess it just wasn't part of their diet.
Now this morning when I looked out the dining room window I saw they had made a feast out of the four hanging plants in a seating area. They not only ate the flowers, but had strewn a couple of the pots on the ground.
All is not lost at the moment there are still some marigolds bordering a very small garden coming into bloom. I wonder how long it will take before they decide to eat those. Just encase you don't know who the four-legged visitors are. They are a herd of about eight deer who roam this wooded area. I spotted them in the backyard a few days ago.
This week's theme is over the hill, now what does that mean. According to the definitions found through Google it has many meanings. It can be anyone over the age of 40 or someone who is beyond their prime to play a certain sport or someone who has lived the best part of their lives. Well I can say after the age of 40 I graduated from college with a degree in chemistry and had twenty-five years of a successful career with publications in the field of science. I can also say being over the hill I am still doing a lot of traveling in the world seeing all the places I have read about as an avid reader. As some of you know a trip to Egypt is just two months away. And China is in the next two years. So much for over the hill, it is what one chooses to make of it, I chose to make the most.
Here are some pictures of hills taken last year as well as this year. The Sacre Coeur, pictured above, sits on a hill in Paris. One way to reach the Basilica is to walk up, up and up 234 steps. All I can say is you had better be in good shape to get there. Along the way you see many former smokers taking a much needed rest. Last year was my second time to make the walk and it is well worth it. For those who can't make the walk there is a Funicular. Another treat once you get up there is the famous artist plaza (Place du Tertre).
St. Guilhem Le Desert was a nice stop on a rainy day on our way from Barcelona, Spain to Arles, France where we started a week cruise up the Rhone River.
Ruins in the hill at St. Guilhem Le Desert
St. Guilhem Le Desert
These pictures of hills in New Mexico were taken on a tour to Taos while I was spending a long weekend at a book retreat in Santa Fe.
Beginning is the start of something, it might be something you have never done before or it could be the return to something you have done in the past. In the past I had the most beautiful cat. Her name was Shortie. She was all white with pink paw pads. She had one blue eye and one yellow eye just like her mother, Cue. Now she didn't live a very long life. She suddenly dropped dead at the age of two and a half after running through the house. That was about five years ago, at that point I said I would never get another pet, because it was very heart breaking to lose her. Last year I saw the heartbreak of my daughter when her cat Cue was killed by a car and the heartbreak of my son when his cat Khalis had to be put down after a losing battle with cancer. But, they showed me how to start over again with another pet. My son got a cute little dog, Rachel. And my daughter got a tiny kitten, Princess.
Well Princess had six kittens this summer and I decided to become the owner of two of them, so they could keep each other company. They are eight weeks old males. One is Black and grey striped with white paws and chest. My daughter had named him Paws and he is keeping that name. The other is Brown and chocolate striped. I have named him Bugzy, because he is such a lovebug. He loves to be cuddled up on my shoulder. I couldn't see naming him Lovebug. Imagine calling Lovebug, Lovebug where are you. Likewise Bug, Bug where are you. Therefore Bugzy is the name.
I have no pictures to show, even though I saw a very, very long stretch limo while I was walking in the Inner Harbor area of Baltimore last Saturday on my way to the parking garage after having dinner at Phillips restaurant.
In the past when I was going on a flight I would use the area limo service.That involved slepping my luggage to my car, driving for over half an hour to the limo pickup place. I would than park the car all the time hoping it would still be there when I returned. Riding on the limo with a group of people I didn't know. This particular service after awhile switched from multi passenger cars to small mini buses. When one of these things hit a pothole you were lucky not to break your teeth. The last straw of taking that kind of Limo was the day I had flown back from Paris in November 2001. I had survived flying to Paris and back home by myself. We arrived back in NYC about 10pm. By the time the limo did pickup it was close to midnight. There were about three of us going to our part of Connecticut. We were unlucky to get a driver who didn't know exactly how to get us back to our stop. On the way up RT7 he started weaving. My thought was I have survived the flight, but I'm going to be in an accident. He eventually got us to our destination. That is the last time I used that service.
Now days when I travel, I take a private limo. I pack the luggage and leave them to the porch. The limo driver arrives, puts the luggage in the trunk of the car and he drives me to the airport. They generally arrive in a Lincoln Town Car. But one time to my shock they decided to pick me up in a stretch limo. Being the only person traveling I felt totally lost. So I have requested that they don't surprise me like that again. The nicest thing when I return the driver is there waiting at the airport. He drives me home and leaves the luggage on the porch. Since I use the same limo service for the past eight years, I have come to know most of the drivers and we have some interesting conversations. Oh my, it's time to make reservations for my next trip to the airport.
There are numerous types of festivals: religious, political, musical, artistic and civic.
In the early 1960s I loved reading the gothic novels written by Victoria Holt. One of the common threads in these novels was the yearly festival in the village. Everyone on the estates were all excited because they were going to take part in the festivities. The nanny or the governess, who were the heroine of the novels, were able to dress up and go into town to attend the festival. I thought this was so exciting.
I live in a small New England town that has an beautiful Green. As anyone knows about small New England towns they are very quaint and quiet. Back in the early 1960s you knew at 6pm they “rollup” the sidewalks. About 43 years ago our town held it first village fair. This fair was held for two days on the Green. There were tents and booths that featured the different business and civic organizations in our town. There were food and drink stands. There also were craft booths. At the early village fair they even had the water dunking booth. It was an invigorating and exciting time in town for two days and than at the end of Saturday night the sidewalks were again “rolled up” for another year.
The fair has grown over the years quite a bit. This year I was able to attend it with my two youngest grandsons and their mother. She had the thrill of watching her sons scamper all over the tank that sits at the south end of our Green. She reminisced how she had climbed all over the tank when she was a young child. Every year when I attend the village fair it reminds me about the festivals that were mentioned in the Victoria Holt novels.
Most of us think of a kiss as a form of endearment, but it can and has been so much more. In the Holy Bible, Judas used the kiss as a sign of betrayal of Jesus. I suppose that is where we get the term “kiss of death”. Also in the Holy Bible New Testament we are instructed to greet each other with a holy kiss.
When traveling in Europe, especially in France, you see people greeting each other with a kiss on each cheek. And there is nothing more thrilling than having a Frenchman greet you by taking your hand and kissing it. In Paris during a trip there eight years ago I first saw lovers kissing freely on the street. It only took a few days of being there to get accustomed to that. I thought it was so romantic, than everything is romantic in Paris.
There is nothing sweeter than the kisses you receive from a toddler or giving kisses to a baby. Even though my oldest grandson is twenty-six years old he still likes me to give him what he calls “butterfly kisses” on his cheek. Some might ask what are “butterfly kisses"? It all started when he was a baby and I would give him a very fast series of kisses on his little cheek. When he became old enough to talk, he said they felt to him like the fluttering of butterfly wings.
Whether a kiss is given to a child, or a greeting or to a lover they all make us happy. So give someone a kiss (if you don’t believe in kisses than try a hug) today it might lower their level of stress.
In January I did a blog critiquing The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. So, if you would like to read it just click on the highlighted title. Instead I am displaying two grouping of different types of buttons that are a representative part of my life.
The first grouping of buttons represent the time in my life when I did a lot of sewing. When my three oldest daughters(yes, Debo Hobo is one of these daughters) were young I always made a lot of their clothes. Matter of fact at this time of the year I was very busy making all their new clothes for the start of the school year. A few days before school started my modeling daughters would put on their new clothing and act like the hallway of our house was a runway. They would prance down the hall into the living room make their turns and return to their bedrooms to change into more outfits..... Pleasant memories.
This second grouping of buttons are representative of my high school reunion, the town where I live and raised my five children, my professional life, my religious life, my traveling life ( Paris is my favorite city), my military mother life( third daughter served as a nurse in the Air Force at that time), my love of history and the ambiance of candles.
Another use for buttons is embellishment on cards and scrapbook pages. I don't have a representative photo to show you. I have used buttons a few times in that capacity, but I need to do it more often. Because they add an interesting textural character to scrapbook layout pages.
What came to mind are a few nursery rhymes about the lowly shoe. Here they are to take you back to your childhood and enjoy.
Cobbler, Cobbler Cobbler, cobbler, mend my shoe. Get it done by half-past two; Stitch it up and stitch it down, And then I'll give you half a crown.
1, 2, buckle my shoe.
1, 2, buckle my shoe. 3, 4, shut the door. 5, 6, pick up sticks. 7, 8, lay them straight. 9, 10, a big fat hen.
There Was An Old Woman There was an old woman Who lived in a shoe, She had so many children She didn’t know what to do. She gave them some broth Without any bread. She whipped them all soundly And sent them to bed.
Closeup of the upper arch of Opera d' Avignon-Pays de Vaculuse
All the World's a Stage by William Shakespeare
All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Ghost what can I say about them, I don't really know. I have read and been told they are friendly or menacing. Among the friendly ghosts I have seen on TV are Casper. Remember how cute he was. Another ghost I loved to watch on TV was the sea captain in the Ghost and Mrs Muir. In literature I remember the ghost in Charles Dickens the Christmas Carol. And there was Hamlet's father in the works of William Shakespeare. I wonder how many and what type of ghosts might be wondering around Besalu. These ancient walls have tales to tell, I wonder what they are.
What is a ghost? I'm not really certain. Do I believe in ghost? Yes I do. Have I ever seen a ghost? I'm not certain. I can't say if it was a ghost or a spirit. Years ago I was awakened by a spirit that resembled Christ in a white robe. To this day I believe it was a visitation from the Lord. I was not frighten, but at peace when it happened. At the end I was given the answer to a question I had about another person. That's all I have to say about this subject. I'll leave you with a poem.
Our Little Ghost a poem by Louisa May Alcott
Oft in the silence of the night, When the lonely moon rides high, When wintry winds are whistling, And we hear the owl's shrill cry, In the quiet, dusky chamber, By the flickering firelight, Rising up between two sleepers, Comes a spirit all in white.
A winsome little ghost it is, Rosy-cheeked, and bright of eye; With yellow curls all breaking loose From the small cap pushed awry. Up it climbs among the pillows, For the "big dark" brings no dread, And a baby's boundless fancy Makes a kingdom of a bed.
A fearless little ghost it is; Safe the night seems as the day; The moon is but a gentle face, And the sighing winds are gay. The solitude is full of friends, And the hour brings no regrets; For, in this happy little soul, Shines a sun that never sets.
A merry little ghost it is, Dancing gayly by itself, On the flowery counterpane, Like a tricksy household elf; Nodding to the fitful shadows, As they flicker on the wall; Talking to familiar pictures, Mimicking the owl's shrill call.
A thoughtful little ghost if is; And, when lonely gambols tire, With chubby hands on chubby knees, It sits winking at the fire. Fancies innocent and lovely
Shine before those baby-eyes, Endless fields of dandelions, Brooks, and birds, and butterflies.
A loving little ghost it is: When crept into its nest, Its hand on father's shoulder laid, Its head on mother's breast, It watches each familiar face, With a tranquil, trusting eye; And, like a sleepy little bird, Sings its own soft lullaby.
Then those who feigned to sleep before, Lest baby play till dawn, Wake and watch their folded flower Little rose without a thorn. And, in the silence of the night, The hearts that love it most Pray tenderly above its sleep, "God bless our little ghost!"
This week's Thursday theme is Funky. It is a word that is commonly used and we have a general idea what it means. So I wanted to find out what is the actual definition for the word FUNKY. For your information and mine here is the definition for FUNKY.
Main Entry: 2funky Function: adjective Inflected Form(s): funk·i·er; funk·i·est Etymology: funk offensive odor Date: 1784 1: having an offensive odor : foul 2: having an earthy unsophisticated style and feeling ; especially : having the style and feeling of older black American music (as blues or gospel) or of funk (a slick, heavy beat that is unmistakably contemporary and irresistibly funky — Jay Cocks) 3 a: odd or quaint in appearance or feeling b: lacking style or taste c: unconventionally stylish : hip — funk·i·ly adverb — funk·i·ness noun
The song that best fulfills definition two is the song Gonna to Have a Funky Good Time performed by James Brown
While I was cruising the Rhone River last Spring we had a tour of the Charity Hospital Hotel Dieu in Beaume France. One of the first things that struck me as we approached the hostital was the beautiful roof. I am currently not at home and don't have access to the pictures I took of that roof, but click on the link and you can see a picture by Levesque Kevin I found on the internet. Multi-coloured Tile roof of Charity Hospital Hotel Dieu, Beaune France.
Tick tock goes the clock. Where will the time go? Sixty seconds in a minute, sixty minutes in a hour, twenty-four hours in a day, three hundred sixty five days in a year, ten years in a decade and ten decades in a century. Where will the time go?
Once there was a girl who grew up in a small and quaint Connecticut town. She attended school in the same building from first through twelfth grade and after graduating high school attended nursing school. Tick tock goes the clock. Where has the time gone?
Then she married a man from another small and quaint Connecticut town. There they built their dream house. They became the parents of four daughters and one son. They raised their children and watched them graduate from high school, go on to college and pursue careers. Tick tock goes the clock. Where has the time gone?
Now the children have gone on to marry, move away from the small and quaint Connecticut town and have children of their own. The first grandson entered the US Navy and is now nearing the end of his third deployment to the Middle East, he also was married last fall. This weekend the second grandson will be graduating from high school and will be attending college in the fall. His brother will be doing the same next year. The other six grandchildren are also doing well as they continue to grow and mature so fast. Tick tock goes the clock. Where has the time gone?
The second son-in-law has just finished twenty years in the US Air Force, his retirement ceremony was held last weekend. That twenty years has taken them from Dover, DE where he met my third daughter and where they were married. Over the twenty years I have visited them at the many bases where they have been stationed. Those visits have taken me to Delaware, California, New Mexico, England, Virginia and Massachusetts. However, I missed visiting them while they were stationed in Mississippi. Tick tock goes the clock. Where has the time gone?
Now it has been two and a half years since I retired from my second career as a scientist. I’m now on my third career as a retired person. This present career has allowed me to do whatever I please whenever I please. Needless to say I am enjoying this time very much. I travel as little or as much as I like going wherever I want to go and staying as long as I please. The time allows me to take photos in many exciting and interesting places. It allows me to read as many books as I can squeeze into time allotted. Retirement has given me enough time to make many nice acquaintances while blogging. Retirement allows me to do absolutely nothing and not feel guilty. Tick tock goes the clock. How long will this time go on? Only God knows.
Well I really don't have anything genius this week to post. I'm sitting here at 11:53 pm Wednesday night knowing I need to pack my luggage again for another trip. Since I'm not leaving until noon tomorrow I think I'll wait until morning to pack.
I'm not all that enthusiastic about packing luggage. You might ask why is that? On May 12th I packed luggage to go Phoenix, AZ to visit a friend who moved there last year while I was there on May 14th I packed luggage to fly to Santa Fe, NM for a four day literary retreat we attended. Than I packed the luggage again on May 17th to fly back to Phoenix, AZ and finally I packed the luggage on May 19th to fly back to Connecticut.
Now today I have finally finished washing all the laundry that was in the luggage. And its time to pack up the luggage again for a trip to Massachusetts for my son-in-laws Friday retirement ceremony after serving 20 years in the Air Force as an attorney. Leaving there its off on a flight to Texas for a grandson's high school graduation. At least I'll be there for two weeks and I won't have to pack and unpack unless I spend time staying at more than one of my three children who live there.
When you are flying with luggage now days its a bit tricky how you are going to keep the weight of the luggage under 50 pounds, so you don't have to pay extra above regular fees. On most airlines the first bag you check is $15 and the second is $25(those fees are going up soon). Hopefully you don't need to check that second bag. Unfortunately, I did after my Christmas trip to Texas, because I went shopping and had to buy another piece of luggage to take everything home. I did consider mailing things home, but decided not to. Now to get around the second checked bag on my most recent trips I checked one bag, had one carry-on bag and a large tote bag. I didn't take my laptop on the trips. A week without a computer was rough.
Today I bought a laptop sleeve for the laptop and plan on putting the laptop in the carry-on. Traveling is fun, but it is just a pain to deal with the luggage.
I saw you toss the kites on high And blow the birds about the sky; And all around I heard you pass, Like ladies' skirts across the grass
Oh wind, a blowing all day long, Oh wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw the different things you did, But always you yourself you hid. I felt you push, I heard you call, I could not see yourself at all
Oh wind, a blowing all day long! Oh wind, that sings so loud a song!
O you that are so strong and cold, O blower, are you young or old? Are you a beast of field and tree, Or just a stronger child than me?
O wind, a blowing all day long, O wind, that sings so loud a song!
One of my most favorite ways to enjoy the wind other than its soothing brush across my face on a balmy summer day is to listen to the melodic sounds of the wind chimes I have outside around the house. Yes, I must admit I am one of those people when seeing wind chimes on display in a store I must put them into motion.
For your pleasure here are a few wind chimes. CLICK on the chimes
This week theme for Thursday is water, Now I could go on and on about the chemical and physical properties of water, as well as the importance of water to the makeup of our bodies. But that is not what I want to do because that is too obvious since I am a scientist. If you want the scientific info click on the underlined water above for the Wikipedia litany about water.
Instead I think I will show you some of the different sources of water I have seen during some of my travels. Click on all the pictures for more detail.
The Housatonic River runs through the town where I live. I wrote a blog about a bridge that spans the river on April 21st. This river is a great source of recreation in the State and the Western section of New England.
Housatonic River looking south from Falls Bridge at Lovers Leap State Park
Great Brook is a source of babbling tranquility on the road where I live. It is always a pleasure to walk to its location and watch it meander and flow.
A Late Winter View of Great Brook in New Milford, CT
Last year had the experience of taking a river cruise in France on the Rhone and Saone Rivers from Arles to Chalone-sur-Saone. The cruise was on the River Royale a new boat in the Uniworld fleet. After the cruise I took a high speed train ride from Lyon to Paris for a
few days stay. I am going to share with you a few of the pictures I took along the way.
Saturday after I finished my errands around the Green, I drove a short distance to the newest State Park in our town, Lovers Leap State Park. The park had been dedicated in June 2007, but this was my first time to go there for a visit. I often ride past the park when I am leaving town. And before I retired in January of 2007 I drove past the bridge five days a week and was able to see men working on the bridge to preserve it. Many years ago this beautiful bridge had been saved from destruction after a new bridge was built. I can still remember driving over the old bridge with all it's creaking and groaning.
On Saturday I walked onto the bridge and took pictures of the Housatonic River looking south towards the Town of Bridgewater. this area of the river is also known as Lake Lillinonah. I saw a few people kayaking and others fishing on the river. Skyward I saw a few hawks soaring, but I was not able to capture their flight in a picture. Click on all pictures for detail.
Lovers Leap State ParkNew Milford Lovers Leap is a walk-in park with hiking trails, scenic vistas and historic ruins. The 160 acre park is divided into three sections, each featuring a different appreciation for the park history. Trails through the park will lead the walker through centuries of land-use history. Heading northeast from the parking lot the trail utilizes the 1895 Berlin Iron Bridge, one of five remaining in Connecticut, to cross the Housatonic River. Across the bridge the Lovers Leap Trail heads southeast 1,200 feet to the rock formation that gives the park its name. From here, tradition has it, that the Pootatuck Indian Chief Waramaug’s daughter, Princess Lillinonah, and her lover plunged to their deaths. The Chief himself died in 1735. The view to the south overlooks a now submerged Goodyear Island named for an early fur trader from Derby who came there to trade with the established Indian Community. Industrial era ruins still exist near the water on the northwest section of the park.-----Google
Information Boards at Lovers Leap State Park
Lover's Leap Bridge Lenticular through truss over the Housatonic River New Milford, Connecticut Berlin Iron Bridge Company, 1895 (click for more information) Lover's Leap is the name given to a high cliff overlooking the Housatonic River gorge in New Milford, Connecticut. Bridges have spanned the gorge near here since the 1770s. The 173 foot long lenticular bridge at Lover's Leap was built in 1895 and is the last of the large lenticular bridges built by the Berlin Iron Bridge Company. The lenticular design began to decline in popularity during the early 1890s because, while structurally efficient, it required more manual labor than other truss forms.---Google
Listing of the 13 Berlin Bridges in Connecticut: Town Bridge, Canton Melrose Road Bridge, East Windsor Ashland Mill Bridge, Jewett City, Griswold Red Bridge, Meriden South Norwalk Railroad Bridge, Norwalk Norwalk River Railroad Bridge, Norwalk Boardman's Bridge, New Milford Lovers Leap Bridge, New Milford Glen Falls Bridge, Plainfield Hallville Mill Bridge, Preston Sharon Station Road Bridge, Sharon Main Street Bridge, Stamford Turn of River Bridge, Stamford Talcottville Main Street Bridge, Vernon Washington Avenue Bridge, Waterbury Sheffield Street Bridge, Waterbury Minortown Road Bridge, Woodbury
Saturday was a beautiful warm and sunny day. While I had to do a few errands downtown around the Green, I took the opportunity to take some pictures. Here is a little history that was written in 1935 about our beautiful and historical town. Some things have changed of course with time, like Canterbury School is now coeducational. Click on all the pictures for more detail.
John Noble and his daughter Sarah
New Milford, Connecticut From The Connecticut Guide, 1935
New Milford, where we cross from Fairfield to Litchfield County, was a swarm sent out by the parent hive of Milford. A land company was organized at Milford, which bought from the Indians and sold rights to take up land. The first white settlement began in 1707, when John Noble arrived from Westfield, Mass., with his 8-year old daughter Sarah. New Milforrd was granted town privileges in 1712. Roger Sherman lived here during his early manhood. The town consists of a beautiful hill country, and on the west the Housatonic has cut a deep valley through the limestone. Lime making is an important industry, and tobacco is grown in the river valley. Entering the town from the south, U. S. 7, which here follows Still River, makes an attractive drive. The first road to the west after crossing the line is worth taking for the view of Candlewood Lake. The village of New Milford, an industrial and trading center, was built up by the Housatonic R. R. and the cigar making which flourished after the Civil War. Present industries consist of tobacco packing, hatters' fur, and a bleachery and dye works. The older section of the village is built along a narrow Green. Starting at the lower end, where R. 25 comes in, we pass on the right the Canfield House, built in 1793. A little above this is the Town Hall, with a bronze tablet marking this as the Roger Sherman home site. Sherman, who later was to become famous as co-author of the Declaration of Independence and our other great national documents, came to New Milford in 1743, where he worked as shoemaker, county surveyor, merchant and lawyer, until he removed to New Haven in 1761.
Town Hall of New Milford
The Public Library stands at the end of the next block.
Continuing north, we pass the Congregational Church, built in 1833, with its fine Greek Revival portico and "Christopber Wren" spire.
The W. Taylor House of 1784, at the end of the street, was built on good Colonial lines. Facing the Green at the north end is the Lincoln Bustby Paul Morris, the gift of the late Edward Marsh.
Canterbury School, a Roman Catholic preparatory school for boys, established in 1915, will be found a block above this on Aspetuck Ave. An earlier school of note was the Adelphic Institute. On the west side of the upper Green, the second building as we go south is the New Milford Historical Society, with portraits by Ralph Earle and other interesting exhibits, (open Mon., Tues., Fri., and Sat., 2:30-5:00.) Below this is the Senator Boardman House, another fine Colonial mansion, built about 1793.
Other pictures taken on the Green
Bandstand and Tank on the southend of the Green
Commemoration to Men Serving in the Civil War and WWI