This month, I enjoyed a three-day solo retreat to my hometown, Madison, CT. I stayed in a lovely, historic inn across the street from the library and half a block from my favorite bookstore. What an ideal location! During my stay, I had a grand time shopping, going to the cinema, visiting the library, walking on the beach and reminiscing with a lifelong friend while dining on excellent Asian cuisine. Of course, I took a lot of pictures. The selection of photos in the slideshow below have inspired my newest photo essay.
Happy Reading!
When she was a little girl, Kathryn Moore always looked forward to the family road trip to Connecticut. Instead of sending her to camp, Kat’s parents would take her to visit her grandmother in New England every summer. The drive from Delaware took hours, but Kat didn’t mind. She would stretch out in the backseat and read or play the license plate game with her father, while her mother drove their roomy station wagon. They would always stop for lunch at a clam shack on the northern tip of the Jersey shore and then walk on the beach before piling back into the car.
Upon reaching their destination, Kat’s grandmother would be waiting on the wide, shady porch of her nineteenth century house, a welcoming smile lighting up her elegant face. She lived in one of the historic homes across from the town green within walking distance of the cinema, the public library and the local bookstore. Kat would jump out of the car and run up the porch steps ready, for five weeks of fun in her Gram’s shoreline town. Mom and Dad would stay for a few days and then head back to Delaware, always returning at the end of the visit to pick her up.
Now, twenty years later, Kat lived in the top floor of the house across from the green. The old house had been turned into two condominiums, and she was lucky enough to purchase one of them when she landed a teaching job at the town’s elementary school. Her downstairs neighbor, a jolly woman named Flora, who was about ten years older than Kat, worked at the library down the street. They quickly became great friends.
On the Saturday after Labor Day, Kat, dressed in khaki capris and a pink polo shirt, relaxed barefooted in a cushioned wicker rocker on the wraparound porch with Flora, who sat cross legged on a matching couch. Panda, Flora’s tuxedo cat, perched on the wide porch railing purring in the afternoon sunshine. Two neighborhood children clattered by on their bicycles, and across the street the postman made his way along the block delivering mail.
As the two friends sipped chilled glasses of rosé and snacked on cheese and crackers, they talked about Kat’s first week of school in her new kindergarten classroom.
“I have just fifteen kids in my class, seven boys and eight girls. Believe it or not, they are all so sweet and well behaved,” Kat said. She laughed, crossing her fingers and added, “So far.”
Flora smiled and reached for a wheat cracker and slice of Brie. “Fifteen sounds like the perfect class size,” she said.
“By the way, they loved the story hour books you suggested, especially If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.
“Happy to help,” Flora said, raising her cracker in a toast. “I’m glad the children are so delightful. What about your fellow teachers? Are you settling in with the faculty?”
“I think so. I’m having a bit of trouble remembering everyone’s name. The other kindergarten teacher, Ms. Hope, is great though. She wants to collaborate with me on projects our kids can do together, which is fantastic. I think she’ll be a good friend.” Kat set her wine glass down on the wicker table and clasped her hands under her chin. “And I really like the principal. She’s totally supportive.”
Flora nodded and flipped her long auburn braid over her shoulder. “Very good. Having a supportive boss is important. Our library director is wonderful. We’re both blessed to have jobs we like.”
“My Gram always said that enjoying your profession was the most important thing. I think she was right.”
“Do you think your grandmother’s spirit guided you back here?” Flora asked, her blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Here you are in her hometown, living in her house and starting a new career that seems perfect for you. It must be fate.”
“Could be,” Kat said thoughtfully. She leaned back and let her gaze wander, taking in the cozy porch and friendly neighborhood. “I have so many happy memories of my summers with my grandmother. I feel like I’ve come home.”
Words and Photos by Linda A. LeVasseur 