I just returned from a pleasant walk through my lovely neighborhood. I mentioned in my last posting that, as of last Monday, April 21st, spring still had not really arrived in Maine. However, by the time I returned home Wednesday evening -- or more precisely, by the next morning, when I looked out my window -- the grass had turned a deep emerald green, trees and shrubbery were budding, some flowering bushes were even in bloom. And this weekend we at last had warm, sunny days, and now the smiling, sunny faces of daffodils are appearing in many flower beds. At last, at last.
So, some of the positive aspects of my trip to New York. Breakfast the next morning, which just about made up for the disappointing dinner the night before. Especially since it was free. This was because the young people who had checked me in, besides misleading me about the caliber of the cafe, had convinced me to sign up for the Priority Club. "It doesn't cost anything," they said, "and you get all these neat coupons." One of those coupons was for a free breakfast. So I had an excellent breakfast "skillet" -- diced potatoes, green peppers, onions, sausage and bacon bits, topped with scrambled eggs -- along with a pot of hot tea, for nothing. And because there was so much left over, I had the waitress box it up for me; and into my travel cooler it went. That tasty mixture livened up my scrambled eggs next morning, when I made my own breakfast at my friends' house where I had stayed the night, and again on the morning after I returned home. Not bad, for no cost.
Then there was the pleasant, sunny drive from Oneonta to the little town of Gilbertsville, fifteen miles away, where I would again be doing genealogical research at the tiny, adorable stone library there. [See Note of July 16 2010 for my experiences at this library on my last trip.] I was reminded as I drove how much I love this part of the country. I love my Maine, love living there, but bucolic Otsego County, New York has second place in my heart. The tree-covered hills, the little valleys with their fields, the handsome, well-kept farms, the pretty little towns with the big old trees and the big old houses. It never ceases to amaze me that my great-great grandfather, William Cole, left this place, and his family, which was apparently quite close, to live in steamy hot south Texas.
And my research turned up some fascinating new infor-mation about William. I spent most of my time reading through the diary of William's mother, which I discovered last trip. This time what I found was that William (called Willie by his mother) was there, in Gilbertsville -- or more accurately on his parents' farm, out in the country -- May-Sept. 1871. Well, his daughter, my great-grandmother, Ann Willie Cole, was born in April of that year! And not in New York, but in Refugio Co., TX. So it would seem there were problems in the relationship of the young married couple. They had been married for only two years, and there William is, back at home. He returned to Texas in Sept., after he had "packed the big trunk," and gone to pay a goodbye visit to all his married sisters. His mother reports, on Sept. 13: "R [her husband] took Willie to the stage this morning. O how hard to part with him again." And that was the last time she saw him; the following March she received a letter from "Willie's wife" that he had died. He was only 25. Everyone's life is a story.
A big positive of the trip was being able to spend the evening visiting with my friends, Kathy and Bona, an hour up the road from Gilbertsville in Binghamton. Kathy was one of my three roommates in college, and we have remained in touch over the years. I always feel so comfortable at their house -- which i refer to as the K&B Bed & Breakfast -- and it is such a pleasure to be able to enjoy interesting, stimulating conversation with like-minded people, who don't necessarily share all of your opinions, but are able to disagree with civility and good humor. This was one of the things I badly needed, in getting away. The absence of friends in my day-to-day life has become a real drag on my spirits. We all need somebody.
The trip cost more than I expected it to, and was terribly short, and tiring, but I was glad I made it. I needed it.
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