Massachusetts - The Bay State
Our week in Massachusetts was spent in a beautiful house we rented on Goose Pond in the Berkshires. I found this house through my friend Turbi Smilow, who has a summer home just down the street from this one. It was brand new at that time with sparkling appliances that made it a treat for cooking. There was also a large backyard that was located on a point surrounded on three sides by Goose Pond. In California, this would have been called a lake. It is much larger than the way we Californians think of a pond, but then Massachusetts does not suffer from drought and lack of water as we do. Once again, we invited Marnie, Terry and the four grandchildren to join as, just as we had when we went to Maine. Charlie Murphy came along again, too, since he apparently had a great time vacationing with us.
There were rafts and an inflatable rowboat at the house, so we all jumped in the lake……I mean pond……that very afternoon. The water was chilly, but not too cold, and I have some hilarious photos of the kids sputtering and splashing and having a blast in the water. There was also a small sandy beach adjacent to the backyard where we could sit in the sun, relaxing, reading, or just hanging out. One day, we took the boat on a long ride across the lake……I mean pond……to a spot near an intersection with the Appalachian Trail. Marnie and I felt compelled to take a short hike on the trail, just to say that we had done it, while the others enjoyed the sandy beach and swam in the water. Marnie and I came across a small cabin which was meant for long haul hikers. There was a kitchen for cooking and places where travelers could put their sleeping bags. It made us yearn to make the trek, although we realized at the time it wouldn’t be easy to make it happen.
On another day, we all went to the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge. Highlights in the museum included enduring favorites from Rockwell’s Saturday Evening Post covers. While the others were too young, Andy and I remembered well the impact of these magazine covers when we were kids. Everybody talked about them because everybody either subscribed to the Saturday Evening Post or read it at the beauty parlor or barbershop. I remember that they were educational, too, because they illustrated, literally, what life was like in other parts of the country. The museum’s expansive lawns and gardens, spread over 36 acres overlooking the Housatonic River, included sculptures by Peter Rockwell, Norman Rockwell’s son. They are spectacular and I have many photos of the kids in, around, over and under these art forms.
After spending the better part of the day there, we went to the historic Red Lion Inn for some food and libations. The Lion’s Den Pub is located downstairs and had a cozy atmosphere. Grandson Owen was just nine years old at the time but already was very good on the piano and had experience singing in school and community productions. He asked our waiter if it would be all right if he played the piano. The waiter looked at him and said, “Well, I don’t think so.” Terry said, “He’s pretty good, why don’t you give him a chance?” So, he said OK and Owen, without any nervousness, sat down and started to play something and sang along……I wish I could remember what it was. The waiter looked at us and said, “Okay, he can play.” As I remember it, the other patrons were impressed, too!
On another afternoon, we visited Jacob’s Pillow, a dance center, school and performance space. We watched a performance by some of the students, which was very avant gard. Afterwards, we walked around the lovely grounds and the three younger kids, Owen, Quinn and Mackenzie, began to assume the positions of the dancers we had just seen, with appropriately dramatic expressions on their faces. It was quite hilarious, and we realized that they all had potential……. for something, we just weren’t sure what it was!
While we usually cooked and ate at the house, one evening we had dinner out at Baba Louie’s Woodfired Organic Sourdough Pizza in Great Barrington. Wow! This was fantastic pizza. If it is still there, it is not to be missed.
One evening, we went to Tanglewood, the music venue which is located in Lenox most of the year but in Stockbridge during the summers. We could not get tickets to sit in the stands, but we were able to spread blankets on the grass outside the venue to hear the music. It was a little soggy because, just as we drove into the parking lot, the sky opened up and it poured rain! We stayed in the car for quite a while until the rain subsided, then ventured out to see if it was going to be possible to place our folding chairs and blankets on the soggy lawn. It was a warm night, so we went ahead, unwilling to pass up this cultural opportunity. The concert that night consisted of John Williams compositions for motion pictures, including Star Wars and others I cannot now recall. It was glorious even though our bums got a little wet. At one point, Quinn asked Grandpa Andy if he could get some Twizzlers. He had scouted out the snack center and discovered they were selling his favorite candy treat. Andy went over to have a look and came back to tell Quinn they were charging $5 for a pack of Twizzlers. Quinn replied, “Grandpa, $5 is nothing!” Quinn was 7 at the time, and clearly knew nothing about high finance. Grandpa relented and purchased the Twizzlers, but he hasn’t let Quinn forget about his comment, to this day.
The day before we left, Owen and Quinn were the only ones willing to take another hike on the Appalachian Trail with Andy and me. We picked a spot on the map and set out for an adventure. After a mile or so, Quinn decided that we all needed to have walking sticks. He chose one for himself then looked relentlessly for others so we all could have one. He talked constantly while he did this, which was not unusual at all for Quinn, and broke the branches over his little knee if they were too long. Before long, we all had sturdy walking sticks. At one point, he said excitedly (he was leading the hike), “Look, there’s a little frog on that rock!” I don’t know how he saw this tiny frog, but he had young eyes, I guess. We all stopped to admire the frog as Andy and I relished Quinn’s unbridled enthusiasm for nature and just about everything else. It wasn’t a long hike, but it was memorable.
It was difficult to leave Goose Pond after an absolutely perfect week. Andy and I decided that it made our quest to visit all the states in alphabetical order even more fun when we could include our family.