Articles by Glenn
Second Homes Come In First Place
My mother purchased our family’s second home back in 1944 while she was waiting for dad to come back from the war. It was a cotton white cottage with red shutters, a stone fireplace, knotty pine interior furnished in the antiques she purchased at local auctions.
The front porch overlooked the Battenkill river in Arlington, Vermont. Approximately, it was located on River Road, a sandy one lane with small cottages and farms. For the next 25 years, our family of 8 plus our shaggy dogs, vacationed for the summer in the cottage of the river. It was a long way from New York City and the traffic. We shared adventures, picked strawberries, caught breakfast, invented stories and listened to our one radio station.
I remember the scent of the woods behind the cottage, the earthy smell of big pines living too close together and the delight of finding a mossy opening to sit and read a new Nancy Drew.
The farmer down the road would bring us milk with cream at the top, fresh corn and green beans. Grandma taught us how to snap the beans and Grandpa how to fish the river.
We rode the horses to the top of the mountain and believed anything was possible. We learned to watch the rain coming, listen to the breezes and each other; Without our second home, we would not have taken the time to be together. Eve now some 45 years later when I need to, I go back to River Road in my mind and smile.