Taking a Break

With the COVID-19 Pandemic racing across the land, most of us are now on an extended break from our regular lives.  So many of us don’t know what to do with all the time we suddenly find ourselves faced with in our homes.  In order to feel less isolated, and because I truly miss my coworkers, we are keeping in touch via a group text, as well as some individual texting and phone calls.  One of my friends/coworkers and I were talking about beautiful places we’ve been right here in our area.  This brought up memories for me of one place in particular: Swartzwood Lake.  She and her husband enjoy going there fishing, as well as a small restaurant near there.  I’ve never been to the restaurant, but I’ve been on the lake.

               Swartzwood Lake State Park is in northwest NJ, and the center piece of the park is a glacier lake which is the 3^rd largest natural lake in the state.   It’s about 3 miles long, and a mile across, and about 22 feet deep, on average, and 42 feet at its deepest.  There are a swimming beach, and trails, picnic grounds, rowboat and canoe rentals, and tent camp sites. It’s truly a beautiful place and I have fond memories of going there when I was a young adult.  I used to take my dog up there in the fall, along with a thermos of hot chocolate when I got off of work in the morning.  I worked from 10:00 pm to 6:00 pm in a donut shop when I left college after 2 semesters.  It was so peaceful in the morning, and the cool air felt refreshing after standing over a fryer full of donuts all night.  Around the same time period, my friend and I went there a few times in the summer and rented a rowboat to just row and float around the lake and while away the time.  The water was so nice and cool to dip my hands in, and the rowing was excellent exercise. Sun dappling the water through trees along the edges of the lake, and the gentle slap of the water against the boat are among my impressions and memories of those days.  After I met my husband, we used to go up in the summer with a picnic. We’d spend some time on the swimming beach, walk some of the trails, then find a picnic site with a grill and have hamburgers and potato chips.  Those were happy times, and memories I treasure.  To be young and in love, and outside in the fresh air in a beautiful setting in the summer; it doesn’t get much better than that!

               This is a stressful time for the world right now, and having nice memories to recount is one way to make it less so.  We need to take a mental break from the news and predictions of what’s to come, as well as how inhumane and selfish some people can be.  If my little blog can give you a little respite from the fear and worry, I am glad to be of service.  Stay 6 feet away from everyone, and stay well! Oh, and wash your hands………

Neighborhood Mysteries and Legends

               I think every neighborhood has its mysteries and legends, questions never answered to my satisfaction, if they are answered at all.  Currently, I wonder daily about why the house next door always has the front storm door propped open with a yellow bag of what I assume is rock salt, or some type of ice melting compound.  It has been like that for well over a year.  The owner moved out of state and put her house on the market about 18 months ago.  Her grown son stayed in the area and we occasionally saw him that winter clearing a path through the snow to the front door so that prospective buyers and realtors could have access.  He is the one who first propped the door open with the yellow bag.  I figured that he simply forgot to move it, and perhaps that’s what happened.  What is curious about that is that when the weather turned warm nobody moved it.  Then the house sold and a young family moved in.  They have been living there for about 9 months, and the bag holding the storm door open is still there.  So, all last summer, and all fall and winter the bag props the door open.  It is never closed.  They don’t seem to want to meet anyone in the neighborhood, so I don’t think I’ll be asking them about it any time soon.  Too bad!  I really want to know! Another mystery here is why the elderly woman who lives diagonally behind us put up a “no trespassing” sign facing our back yard.  It was there for about 3 years, but now the house is up for sale and we noticed the other day that the sign is gone.  So now I wonder where did it go, as well as why was it there in the first place?  We have no pets or small children that might have been running over there.  I haven’t seen the lady who lives there in a while, is she still there?  Did she move? Did she die? It’s a mystery to me.

               When I was growing up, there was an old shack on the street above ours, but at the opposite end of the block.  It looked scary, and menacing, with its overgrowth of bushes and trees and dark windows watching everyone walk by.  My brothers and I never knocked on that door on Halloween, but ran past it on the other side of the street, fear knotting my stomach.  The other kids in the neighborhood did the same.  It was known as “Steve the Hermit’s house.  I found out once I was an adult, from one of my brothers, that the man who lived there alone was a war vet and that our father occasionally spoke with him.  I have no idea if that is true, I assume so, but it was creepy at the time.  The shack has since been torn down, the lot cleared, and a nice 2 story house is in its place.  Across from the house where we lived was an elementary school.  At the back of the playground in the back of the school there was and still is, a retention pond with a chain link fence around it.  When I was a child the rumor around the school was that it was a big quick sand pit and that one time long ago a boy had ventured over the fence and been sucked into the ground, never to be seen again.  I remember trying to imagine how terrifying it must have been for that poor boy. Now I know that that story was untrue, and perhaps was perpetuated by adults hoping to keep curious children from climbing over the fence.  It was also rumored that before the school was built, a circus came to town and one of the lions died while there.  The legend is that they buried the lion there and now the school stands on top of it.  It could be true, it’s an old town where I grew up, so I believe it’s possible that could have happened.

I think every town has mysteries and legends passed around through the residents, especially among children.  I’m not sure what the mysteries and legends are in my town where I live now, but my neighborhood has mysteries for me.