Brownstone Quarry, Portland, CT

This place is just a hop, skip and a jump – literally!..
from where we live.. can’t believe we’ve never been before…
What a great place to take the kids for a day of water fun.

Our Quarry Crew 🙂

You can rent the gasebos for the day for a fee..
They have picnic tables and benches on each one.. a floating “home base”
for your group. I love the idea…
wish we had known that before the day was half over.

A tip:  Bring your own food.. it’s allowed.. and it’s much healthier and
more affordable!!  Cheeseburgers were small and  cost $5.75.
to give you an idea.
We went yesterday ( Monday) – not crowded.
I hear the weekends are mobbed. 

Who’s gonna jump in first?
In some places the quarry is 100 feet deep!

There are walls to scale…

..and then a big jump if you’re so inclined…

Trampolines and pyramids, slides and walk-on-water balls…

Most exciting of all are the zip lines…..
You start way up there….
These are our three big kids….
And skid into the water…

You can bet these kids are still sleeping this morning.
For information on visiting the park … click HERE
A little history on the quarry itself…
The Portland Brownstone Quarries are a set of historic quarries in Portland, Connecticut. The brownstone mined from these quarries was an important source for construction in the latter half of the 19th century. The stone from these quarries was used in a number of landmark buildings in Chicago, Boston, New York City, Philadelphia, New Haven, Connecticut, and Hartford, Connecticut.

Quarrying on this site began in 1690.  Commercial quarrying started in 1783 when the Brainerd Quarry Company began operations. During the peak of the brownstone era, more than 1500 workers were employed by the quarries, which shipped stone on their own ships for eight months out of the year.
Proceeds from the quarrying business were deeded to Wesleyan University from 1833 through 1884, and stone from the quarries was used to build many campus buildings.  As tastes in buildings shifted, and concrete became the material of choice, the demand for brownstone declined. A flood in 1936 and a hurricane in 1938 flooded the quarries, ending their operations. All efforts to drain the flooded quarries have been unsuccessful; one theory is that the floods opened some underground springs, making it impossible to effectively drain the quarries.
The town purchased the historic quarries and 42 acres (170,000 m2) of adjacent land in 1999 and 2000.
They’ve been leased for development as a recreation center and are currently being operated by Brownstone Exploration & Discovery Park, with the hope that awareness of the historic landmark will strengthen the local economy.



Up the creek… with paddles

Me:  Come on.. lets go kayaking..
He:  (who doesn’t DO water.. or small watercraft that has the potential to tip)
OK.
Me:  What?… ok?…
He:  Yep. I’ll be home in half an hour, lets go.
Holy crap.
So I had the boys help me get the boats off the racks in the garage
and put them out on the lawn just so he couldn’t change his mind.
Well he could have, but it woulda looked bad in front of the others.
So, off we went with the boats in back of the old longbed  truck.
We came to the boat launch at Cedar Lake and unloaded the boats.
I told him his feet wouldn’t get wet but I lied just a little.
He got into his boat… oooh sooo tentatively..
and it immediately began filling with water because as you can see…
it’s a sturdy sea kayak that doesn’t want to sink…
 it has holes that fill  up the boat according to your weight, and then
let the water back out as you relax and float on.
He wasn’t buying it.
He: Oh, no.. I don’t think so.. I’m gonna sink!
Me:  You’re not gonna sink. The holes are there for that purpose! No sinking! I promise!
He:  Yeah, ok.. you go have fun, I’ll wait for you here..
(paddling ever so slowly back the five yards to the waters edge)
Me:  GET OUT HERE.  You’re not gonna sink!… and the lake is so shallow
right here you can stand and be up to your knees.  if that!
He:  DON”T YOU TAKE PICTURES!!!
Me:  I’m not taking pictures.  Let’s go.
*click*
 To his credit – He got the hang of it pretty quickly…
learned to use the paddle efficiently and turn.
Me:  Can you take a picture for me?
He:  NO!  I like staying upright! Don’t come near me!
GET AWAY FROM MY BOAT!
Okay.. give me the camera.. STAY STILL!!!
and let me come to you.
DON’T MOVE!.. I’m coming over.
(Me not moving one inch)
He takes the picture with my phone and doesn’t even drop it in the water.
Good man 🙂
This is me making damn sure I’m not gonna hit his boat
because we’ve made progress.
Once he was really comfortable we had a great time…
a relaxing, sunny, warm day on the lake
and then
…up the creek.

I think this is one of my most favorite things on this earth to do…
Truly your boat becomes one with you and being so close to
nature in this way, on such peaceful water.. is soul soothing.

 This is where we stopped and turned around. I noticed our paddles were wider than the tunnel and I wasn’t sure we could navigate through and back.
You don’t think I was taking THAT chance on this day, do you?

Tonight daughter asked…
“Dad, will you do it again?”
He turned to me and said…
“How long have we been married?”
That could mean I might have to wait another 24 years.
I’m not asking for clarification.


The ties that bind

 He liked to have fun.
He had many friends.
He lived on his boat for a while.
He built real sailboats, little race cars, model airplanes…
He was incredibly mechanically inclined..

                                bright in a way that could have taken him anywhere he chose to go…

… if he had chosen to go.
He is stubborn ( I inherited that)
There is a certain anger (for a time I inherited that too, but I’ve grown up some)
There is an emotional detachment to family and friends I just don’t understand…
and I don’t think he does either.
We don’t have the bond I’ve seen other daughters appreciate and cherish.
The affection now doesn’t come easy, doesn’t come at all…
because it never was.  
And yet there are the ties that bind.
He is my father…and I am his daughter.
As his world becomes much smaller
and his body frail,
I can no longer ignore the lack of relationship.
The past is gone… and I’m done with the hurt of what wasn’t.
What remains needs tending.
And so I do what I’m capable of…
and my husband (thankfully)
takes care of the rest.
Today my son and I went to his home and mowed lawn,
hung his flag out on the deck,
trimmed shrubs.

After the yardwork was done, 

he sat out on the deck with an old photo album
and reminisced with my son about the good ole days…
the days of custom vans and sailboats,
parasailing on Lake George..
his three years in the Carolinas as a draftsman in  the Army
(the best years of his life)

He glanced over at the pot of impatiens I placed on the steps…

Red – the very same flowers he used to plant
around the big old oak tree in the yard of our long ago home.
He remembered this…which amazed me.

I took this picture…because I felt it  then…
the ties that bind… .
.they are there in the little things…
and that will be enough.
 ï»¿

The size of the smile…

  What a terrific weekend ! 

  Years ago, when my daughter was just nine or so… we were backyard horse people who thought we’d dabble in the horseshow world to see what it was about. We went to a big barn where they give lessons and show a specific breed of horse.

Ofcourse, the horse we had wasn’t show material, and so we needed to buy something better. We then entered a BREED SPECIFIC show world… where life became complicated. I happen to love this particular breed and we still have one of those, Opie.  ……That  breed specific world of show? It became clear after a few years of seeing it through that  It ain’t our thing

 I’m not trashing it here, we have friends that are still very involved in it and they have had tremendous success. It was just way beyond what we wanted to do with our show experience.   We found it to be very expensive, a bit too intense, competitive in a way that people weren’t very nice to each other, a little catty and drama-filled, but most importanlty we just weren’t having fun.  After trading up to a third horse on trainer’s recommendations.. I realized we weren’t in Kansas anymore. My daughter wasn’t enjoying the experiences… and worst of all, we had bought a young horse to bring up, and the filly was killed in a training accident at the show barn.  My heart was broken.   So we brought our newest horse home and were done with it.

Many years later, my daughter wanted to take up lessons again. This time we went to a barn where I knew they had a mix of the breed specific show people and those who are just taking lessons or participating in Open shows.  The barn is family friendly.  We also met Heidi, who has taken my daughter under her wing and has introduced her to the world of Open and color breed shows with her horse, Beemer.

 Just a year ago, Beemer was a horse nobody wanted.. he came to the barn very skinny and depressed. He was stubborn and unhappy – but Heidi saw something in those big brown eyes, bought him and took HIM under her wing too. What a turnaround… shows you what love can do.

 SO!… what did we find this weekend at the Tri-State Horsemen’s Association first show of the season? …What a difference!  There is still good competition, but it is less intense.  So many breeds, so many beautiful horses!…. There is commeradery among competitors!… compassion! Smiles everywhere!.. doesn’t matter the color of the ribbon, although the blues are still the most desired.   In general, the atmosphere is more user friendly, the cost is more affordable…and my girl is smiling ear to ear.

What a magnificent horse… I’d love one here at This Old House…
husband would file, tho,  I’m sure of it. 

Another team from the barn.. Maria & Apache… 

A very pretty paint…

This horse wore very colorful “clothes”.
His owner was just as colorful. 

They don’t melt in the rain

 We packed up the Jeep and loaded the trailer and our fearless Leader Heidi and her horse Beemer took my girl to a two day horse show not too far away.

They tented it this weekend… and the forecast called for rain last night and today. 
Cats & Dogs, I’m tellin ya.
Mike & I were up at 3am because the rain was so heavy it woke us.
All we could think of were the women in tents at the show
and how my daughter was probably not loving  the cowgirl life
on this particular night.
At 5:30 am I got a text…
 “we’re good! ”
Tent didn’t leak, but mattress deflated and  bathroom runs
were succesfully avoided in the middle of the night – Amen.
I got there first thing this morning and oh, man was it all just muddy.
And rainy, wet, soggy, damp, cold, icky, yuck.
HOWEVER.. horse people are resilient, don’t ya know.
There were many entries, people lunging their horses in the rain,
riding through the mud in outdoor rings,
and thankfully most classes took place in the indoor,
where those of us who didn’t have to go out in it, stayed put.
The girls had alot of fun (most important!)
and Beemer was a real trooper..
 They placed very well too,  – icing on the cake.
Tomorrow is another day! Good luck Team Beemer!

True Colors

My daughter rode in a Connecticut Colored Breeds Horse Show today…
glorious weather…
So many beautiful horses of different breeds and spectacular color.
She rode Beemer, a paint who is owned by her riding instructor.

 Wouldn’t this gentleman Clydesdale make a nice lawn Ornament here at this old house?

Pretty in Purple…


A beautiful Palomino..

A Clydesdales “Feathers”..



The Graduate

Words failing me as I try to describe
the pride I feel for this young woman before me.
She is…..
first..a walking miracle.
Courageous. Determined.  Strong beyond strong.
Conscientious. Thoughtful.  A Joy to her family…  
…A Graduate, with honors.
Proud.. we are. Beyond measure.
Grateful, too….
Amen.

 Trying it on….

Friends…

Her favorite Academic Advisor…Mr. G.

Family… at Water Edge after.

Cousins…

My Aunt and my sister Sue…. 
you’re amazed at how much we look alike, aren’t ya.
She’s my BFF.

Mom and cousin Andy and a much deserved Irish Coffee…

Now here’s where you come in….
In the comments section, leave one piece of Life advice you would give this
brand new college graduate… something you wish your 22 year old self knew
back in the day… or something you’ve learned along the way that you know to be true,
that we each should know for sure.