While we were in the "North Country" for a family reunion, I had the opportunity to visit the town where my maternal grandparents lived.
Growing up, we spent the summers in the Adirondack mountains. It's a slower paced way of life and one I have fond memories of.
My grandmother worked as a librarian at the public library pictured above. She introduced me to a variety of authors including Phyllis Whitney. I think that was the beginning of my love affair with mystery novels.
Just down from the library is a boat marina that once belonged to my great-grandfather and his brother.
That was long before my time, but it was in my grandfather's blood; the marina, the dock, the lake. His love ran deep for all things related to the lake. That love rubbed off on all of us and seeing the lake for the first time after so many years brought strong emotion and tears to my eyes.
This is the view from what once was my grandparents property. The house and grounds no longer look the same, but the view from the birch tree on remains unchanged. Those are the blue mountains of Vermont across the lake.
There used to be stairs to the right of the birch tree that took you down to a pebbly beach. Below is an old photo of the beach. The foundation used to be a boat house.
Looking back, I think I took those times for granted. I wish I had revered them more. Time with my grandparents and the opportunity we had to spend our summers on the lake.
Here is an old photo of me with my grandparents (circa 1985 - or there about).
"If you're lucky enough to still have grandparents, visit them, cherish them and celebrate them while you can."
Thanks for taking a stroll with me down memory lane.
Until next time,