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We have decided that the role of grandmother is quite to our liking. As we have been told any number of times, as a grandparent it is perfectly acceptable to hold, play with and fawn over the grandchild until such time as said grandchild becomes fussy. And then, and this is the best part, it is completely within the purview of the grandparent to return the fussy grandchild to the parents. We love it.
And we also loved our Fourth of July visit with The Widge, a.k.a Abby, who was here to take in the church service in which her grandfather, Gerald B. Ellsworth, was remembered as a notable of Christ Church, to dine, although she got nothing to eat, at the Blue Mingo, and attend a Fourth of July gathering at the home of Mary-Jo and Wolf Merk. And, not that we are in any way the least bit prejudiced, she was the model of five and one-half month old perfection at each event.
We were of course amazed at the amount of stuff with which she travels. She brings her own bed, high chair, stroller, clothes, diapers, toys and food. While in Cooperstown she was dining on homemade rice cereal and butternut squash. She has since added sweet potatoes to her plate. And we understand that all of her solid food will be homemade. None of that store bought stuff will pass her cute little lips which thus far seems to be just fine with her. In fact, if the food is not forthcoming at a rate to her liking she pounds her hand on the high chair tray as if to say ``more please.’’
And while The Widge’s stay in Cooperstown was ever so brief, we were invited by her Higby grandparents, Judy and Hal, to join them on Martha’s Vineyard for a few days after the Fourth of July while The Widge would be visiting there.
It was not an opportunity to be turned down and thus we were quite happy to motor off to Woods Hole, Massachusetts to catch the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. Of course, we made that trip on what was perhaps the hottest day of the year thus far.
Consequently, we were extremely happy to be able to find handicapped parking on the dock at the Steamship Authority, which runs the ferries to the island. Doing so meant we could load our luggage on our faithful walker, the Red Rocket, and then transfer it to the ferry’s luggage cart before boarding the ferry. We boarded using the auto ramp which then allowed us to take the elevator to the very deck on which we were able to purchase our trip’s first taste of New England Clam Chowder.
All in all, we must give the Steamship Authority high marks for their accommodation of handicapped passengers. All of the crew members were extremely solicitous of our needs, making certain that we were able to negotiate our ferry crossing with a minimum of difficulty. Of course we must admit that we found it rather disconcerting to have them stop loading the vehicles that were to make the crossing so that we could make the much easier walk up the auto ramp instead of the much longer and much steeper pedestrian ramp. But we are nonetheless most grateful for the treatment accorded us and salute the Steamship Authority for a job well done. And, of course, we love their clam chowder.
And we also loved our visit to Martha’s Vineyard. And while we might be tempted to say that much of our visit consisted of waiting endlessly in traffic and sitting hopefully in front of a fan, those two somewhat unpleasant undertakings were far overshadowed by other events. We quite enjoyed our two trips to the beach which we hasten to point out is about two more beach visits than we normally make in a year.
Granted, the Red Rocket has issues when it comes to sand, but The Widge’s father was able to simultaneously pull both baby stroller and the Red Rocket through the sand.
And while we sunburned our knees, we are most happy to report that The Widge, who had enough suntan lotion on her to qualify for greased pig status, was able to maintain her creamy complexion. We also greatly enjoyed breakfast at the Black Dog and yet another tour of the Martha’s Vineyard Campmeeting Association in Oak Bluffs.
All in all, it was yet again another wonderful visit to Martha’s Vineyard and we thank the Higby’s for inviting us. This was our fourth trip to the island and we do believe that we have decided, at least in our opinion, that the best time to visit Martha’s Vineyard is the same best time to visit Cooperstown, namely between September 15 and May 15. But this assessment is made based on our desire to avoid crowds at all costs. However, if that is not a concern, we hasten to note that both Martha’s Vineyard and Cooperstown have much to offer during the summer season.
In closing, while musing over a possible quote for this week’s column we came upon one by Bill Laurin who said: ``If I would have known that grandchildren were going to be so much fun I would have had them first.’’ We must admit that we are not quite certain how that might work, but we must say that we absolutely understand the sentiment.
PLEASE NOTE: Comments regarding this column may be made by mail at 105 Pioneer Street, Cooperstown, NY 13326, by telephone at 607-547-8124 or by e-mail at cellsworth1@stny.rr.com.
Columns
In These Otsego Hills: Travels with The Widge...
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From Fly Creek: For help with the smug
I’ve been having much fun lately, friends, writing a short book called “Saints for Special Needs,” completely fictional characters whomight get us thinking about humanity—and ourselves, in particular. Here’s a sample. Let me know your reaction. (Oh, and I have a fine cartoonist to illustrate the book!) [Almost every culture has a place for “the wise fool,” the vacant sort of person who, in fact, has a witty and trenchant view of humanity, and may even see into its future.]
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In These Otsego Hills: Still more from 1986
Early August found us asking the question, “Does anyone know when Edgewater was builtand by whom?” The answer, much of which came from Ralph Birdsall’s history of the village, appeared in the Aug. 13 column as follows:
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In These Otsego Hills: Continuing on from 1986 ...
We continue this week by answering the question we asked if anyone remembers the old Cooperstown National Bank? On May 13, we wrote: “Martha Dickison, Delaware Street, called to tell us about the Cooperstown National Bank where she worked at her first ‘real job’ after her graduation from school.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Spring inventions
The second line of Lawrence Durrell’s novel “Justine” reads as follows: “In the midst of winter you can feel the inventions of Spring.” I first read all four novels of his magnificent Alexandria Quartet during the year I traveled from Saigon to Paris after working in Vietnam for a refugee organization for several years.
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From Fly Creek: Revving up for spring
Time to bring you up to date on Fly Creek’s happy clambering into Spring. First, the eatery scene. “Is Jerry’s open yet?” The answer is, “Oh, yes!” The porches are freshly stained; the lawns a uniform green, and the hop vines are already climbing the posts on the covered side deck. Blue and I went up there to lunch earlier this week, and I celebrated spring with my traditional bacon, onion and Swiss cheese hamburger. We two sat on the deck, enjoying the broad view and some spectacular clouds marching across, up toward Schuyler Lake.
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In These Otsego Hills: More from 1986 ...
This week we continue with the discussion of telephone service from the pre-dial days. On March 12 we noted that: “No one has yet produced a telephone directory from pre-dial days, but Doug Preston of New Hartford recalls that some business (which one?) in the village had the phone number 7.”
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Home Notes: Celebrations abound at the Thanksgiving Home
April was a month of celebrations and much to appreciate. We had a 90th birthday celebration for Wanda Noyes on April 4 including her family and friends. Personal care staff Dee Bouck worked with residents to hand paint Easter eggs for the tree in the activity room.
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In These Otsego Hills: 1986 continues ...
This week we continue our journey through the columns of 1986 with the answer to the question “for whom, according to tradition, was Hannah’s Hill named?”
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Book Notes: Baseball book features local contributors
Baseball is part of the nation’s fabric. Most kids have a memory of the game either from playing Little League, attending a major league contest or meeting a favorite player. In Cooperstown that feeling is magnified since we are the official home of baseball. We get to see firsthand what has made the sport the national pastime.
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From Fly Creek: Ya really wanna know?
SETTING: Fly Creek General Store. CAST: Assorted seated geezers, drinking coffee. [Door opens, enter heavy-set geezer; walking slowly with wide stance, maybe prostatitis.]
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In These Otsego Hills: Returning to 1986 ...
For the past several years now we have undertaken sharing some of the area’s oral history we have collected over the years that we have written this column. Therefore, this year, we would like to go back to 1986 to share that rather unusual year. Those who were here then no doubt remember that it was that year that the village celebrated the bicentennial of its founding.
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From Fly Creek: For reasons unknowable
[Jim’s reached back to 2002 to share one of his favorite columns.] My father was born as the last century began into a river village in tidewater Maryland. He told me once of a man there in his boyhood who, like so many, made a thin living tonging for oysters in the cold months and, in the hot and humid ones, crabbing and raising vegetables.
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In These Otsego Hills: CCS balancing act ... side two
Last week we shared a number of activities in which students at CCS can participate. We thought it was an impressive, if not overwhelming, list. And we are indeed pleased that the young people of our area have these opportunities. However, we think it is also important to keep in mind that these undertakings do have a cost associated with them. They are not free. In fact there are, no doubt, those who would say they do not come cheap.
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From Fly Creek: A graceful crowd
Make of this what you will, friends. I feel I’m really meant to share it with you. Despite good medication for my Parkinsonism, every four or five weeks I can sensethe symptoms building up on me, giving me more than ordinary trouble. Lately it’s been falls, and last week brought a typical one. I’d gone out to get the paper, moving along with penguin steps on the snowcoved ice patches, and usingmy spike-tipped cane the waya climber uses an ice axe. But circumstances overcame me. Parkinson’s wipes out the possibility of multi-tasking.
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In These Otsego Hills: This and that and the other side ...
We note that the CCS Class of 2012 is presenting its senior class play, “Snow White” by Tim Kelly, this week with performances 7:30 p.m Thursday and Friday, March 29 and 30, and at 11 a.m. and 7:30 p.m. Saturday, March 31. All performances will be at the Nicolas J. Sterling Auditorium at the Middle/High School.
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In These Otsego Hills: That green thing ...
Of late we have noticed that our email inbox has been much busier than usual. In fact, we find ourselves hard pressed to keep up with all the various messages we receive. As a result we suspect we have not answered some in as timely a fashion as might be thought appropriate.
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From Fly Creek: What you need to know
In their last Sunday’s bulletins, all 84 churches of Otsego County were to have carried announcements of an important meeting; most of them did. But because the announcement is so important, and not just to the churched, here it is again.
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Book Notes: Living the magic of ‘Hoosier’
A lot of people consider “Hoosiers” the best sports film of all time. The 1986 classic follows the exploits of a fictional small town Indiana high school basketball team in 1952 as it attempts to achieve the impossible dream of a state championship. The story is inspired by the true life achievement of the 1954 Milan team, who with an enrollment of only 161 students shocked big city power Muncie Central on a last second shot to win the state title. It’s the kind of sports story that represents something that is hard to grasp unless you live in a small town.
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In These Otsego Hills: The most perfect village... home to heavy industry?
We suspect we would get a whole lot more accomplished if we spent less time thinking, pondering and musing about things. In fact, there is a good possibility we might actually have completed our goal of cleaning the basement if we only focused on the task at hand, instead of trying to figure out the world around us. It almost makes us wonder if it is possible to think too much about things. We certainly hope not because should that be the case, we are in deep trouble.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: The past in the present
Clichés abound about the value of photographs. Most are probably true at least to a certain extent. What I do know about an image is that it represents something of the past that is not the pastitself. But that is the power of any image. It represents something that once was. The beauty of an image, revisited, is that it functions as a catalystfor reliving in the present a past experience. My own view, one that I thank the Spanish writer Jorge Luis Borges for, is that all we ever can experience is the present.
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From Fly Creek: For help with the smug
