Metacognition is a blog written by a student who is spending a semester in Australia. I enjoyed seeing her photos and reading her descriptions and inspiring quotes from Carl Jung and others.

Last night, with all good intentions, Jim and I embarked on an evening out to hear a musical concert in a small New Hampshire town. We left plenty of time to find the location site, but when we arrived in the general area, there were no signs, and no indication of the name of the place listed for this event. We thought that it might be more on the outskirts of town, so we drove further and further until we were in a different community altogether. By the time we drove back to the center of town, we still could not figure out where the meeting might be found, and the clock read 6:59 p.m., which would have meant that we would arrive late. Not cool!

We had gotten so busy, we had kind of forgotten to eat supper, so we decided to head back toward Concord, hoping to find an ice cream stand or something, on the way. I spotted a take-out restaurant with picnic tables and was pleased to find that they sold a few types of sandwiches, including egg salad, one of my favorites that I never think to make at home. I decided to have that as a treat, instead of ice cream.

Riding around the back roads of Belmont and Gilmanton, New Hampshire, I marveled at the many gorgeous, well-kept old houses of the well-to-do, sometimes with scenic views of a lake or mountains. The grounds of the beautiful homes are carefully manicured, no doubt by hired hands. One gets a real sense of history, just riding by. As we drove along, Jim pointed out the former farm of his grandparents in Loudon, NH, and the former site of an apple orchard formerly owned by his aunt and uncle.

We did not experience any musical joy, unless you count my humming in the car! Our ride to nowhere was an escape from work, a chance to chat without interruptions, and a basic time-out. We came home feeling refreshed and ready to do-it-all-again, today. The impression that remains includes the beautiful flowers and trees of New Hampshire. We live in a grand state!

Patricia Cummings

We just returned from an all day trip, part of a quest to track down some information and partly a “let’s fly the coop today” day. We beat over the roads to find a tiny town in Maine where a quilter and her family once lived. I had never been to that area of Maine before. Although she has long since gone to her reward, she left behind a quilt that must speak for itself, via the clues in its construction, its colors, and its pattern.

Elusive genealogical tidbits of data, are beginning to fall into place. How wonderful that a descendant recalls some circumstances that no one else would be able to tell. First hand information serves well, in terms of understanding what may have happened.

You know, all of us are witnesses to the deeds of other living souls. When someone is gone, all that is left are examples of their work, if they created art, or potholders, or quilts, wrote a poem, or left other extant works.

Unless there is a written record of our life and work, somewhere, then when we pass on, no proof, except perhaps a grave marker, will signal that we were here at all. Of course, there are loved ones and friends who will remember us, until they reckon with the same fate as all mankind.

Today was an adventure! Just this morning, Jim and I were discussing yellow lady slippers, (as seen in my e-book about Ellen Webster), and pink lady slippers (wildflowers). We were saying that neither of us have seen them lately. Riding along a Maine road I spotted some pink lady slippers. They are delicate and do not do well if transplanted. In fact, I believe it is against the law to disturb them.

I saw one deer, from the Maine turnpike, along a little riverlet. On a back road, there was a flock of newly-shorn sheep in a wooded pasture. It was a cold, rainy day and they looked rather cold. We saw many miniature horses in a big field, and Swiss cows, those black and white bovines that are marked in a very unusual way, in wide vertical stripes. We passed a horse farm, Christmas tree plantations, and too many antique shops that we simply did not have time to stop at!

I’m always on the lookout for wildlife, birds, and animals. Before leaving Concord, I saw five Great Blue Heron standing in a low bog, down the hill from the turnpike. There were 9 of them together, yesterday. I do not see any signs of a rookery there, and they usually nest atop dead swamp trees. They look so awkward while trying to feed their young in these huge treetop nests which I’ve seen just off the turnpike near Londonderry, NH and again, near Grantham, NH. Never before have I ever seen more than one Heron, at a time, unless one was feeding its young.

We stopped for lunch at Governor’s in Waterville, Maine. The Haddock Chowder there is “to die for.” Jim had breakfast (at 2 p.m.) and I had a shrimp roll. Around the perimeter of the restaurant, a train set runs along an extended shelf, for ambience.

This was a rare “vacation day,” so we splurged and had a dessert (I’m so glad we decided to share it, as the Apple Fritter with vanilla ice cream was huge!). We did not bother eating supper, and at 11:37 p.m., I am not sure I want anything else to eat today!

All in all, when we got to our destination, we found the town to have no signs of visible life, except for a country store and a post office. I was able to find someone to ask a few questions and her answers will be helpful, I believe.

I have much more to do in tracking down some additional information, but this was a fun, but exhausting trip. Sitting for about 14 hours is more tiring than anything I can imagine. Yet it is for a good cause: quilt history, my passion. Much more to follow …

Patricia Cummings

When one comes across something unexpected and delightful, the sudden awareness is always a joy. What better advertising for a yarn shop that to have a “sheep” standing amid the pansies. The photo below was taken in front of a brick building that houses a business called “The Yarn Basket.” Their phone number is (603) 431-9301. We found this to be a charming display.

As we were walking to the Warner House, another historic building which, unfortunately, is closed on Wednesday, we saw a most unusual site. Right along the side of the street were cemetery vaults from 1847, just three of them, I believe, with just the name of the person enterred there. These were located underneath the small cemetery plot above, rife with crosses.

Portsmouth is a walking town, as parking on the streets is limited, and a lot of the streets are one-way. Wear comfortable shoes or sneakers if you visit. The terrain is hilly. Also, print a map before you go. The streets are not laid out in a systematic fashion, and it’s easy to get lost. You will at least want to be able to find your way back to the municipal parking garage.

Sometimes we see harbor seals, romping about, but did not go to Prescott Park yesterday. The Tall Ships will be visiting this weekend, an event that draws multitudes. With antique stores and small boutiques all over the city, Portsmouth has a lot to offer.

Patricia Cummings

The Norton House Quilt Shop in , is one of our favorite destinations. To read more about Wilmington and to see photos that Jim took, around town, of statues and painted bears, visit our new file. This town in Vermont is a great destination!

Pat and Jim Cummings

This is a photo of a footbridge seen in (W. Danville?), Vermont that is in the style of a covered bridge. This was located near a (damaged) statue of a Native American called “Indian Joe.” There is a little plaque in this roadside park that is a tribute to him.

If anyone can identify the location of the town where these features are, please write to us at: I just thought you might enjoy seeing Jim’s photos.

Patricia Cummings

Last week, wanting to fly the coop, we decided to take a little ride up the road a piece to one of our favorite destinations: Vermont. Of course, it is “touristy” this time of year, which is a good thing for the locals, as it keeps the economy going.

Unlike New Hampshire, there is not a whole lot of building going on. What there is, in the northeast section of Vermont right now, are fields of alfalfa, and roadsides just full of wildflowers such as white Queen Anne’s Lace, blue Chickory, and yellow Goldenrod.

We passed close by to Smuggler’s Notch, which is a fun place to visit, if you’ve never been there before. We also took a rain check on stopping at the Cabot Cheese outlet which is a lovely place to stop, if one has thought ahead and brought a cooler to keep the cheese cold.

Strangely enough, we had a couple of pre-planned stops, in mind. One was a place that sells the most delicious hot dogs, boiled in cider. Well, we would have to change that word “sells” to “used to sell.” Sadly enough, they no longer do this. I am not even a fan of hot dogs but theirs were superb!

Then, across the street from them, there is a wonderful antiques shop. We can also have to change that word “is,” to the past tense of “was” — there is now a “For Sale” sign on the building, which is completely empty.

How is it that, in our mind’s eye, we expect everything to stay the same? I’m still bemoaning the fact that Week’s Dairy, just down the street from us, sold out (it must be twenty years ago, now), and they closed their little restaurant that had the best Chicken Croquettes around, as well as hot fudge sundaes. I must be hungry, or rather, I guess, I could feel that way just thinking of their food!

Vermont is one of our favorite places on earth. The blue hills in the distance, the still working farms, the green expanses of land. They are a sight to behold.

Unexpectedly, as we were riding along, I told Jim to “Stop here!” I had spotted a sign that said “Textile and costume exhibition.” This was free, and was contained in a part of a building that used to be a barn. There were articles of old clothing, hanging from the rafters, and pieces of needlework, placed on a ladder, and an old wash wringer that made me stop and give thanks for modern washing machines. Apparently, these goods belonged to the family and were on display for interests’ sake only. An attached shop sold maple candy, sweatshirts, postcards, and teacups.

At the end of the day, I know that I am a country girl. This big city stuff is for the birds, or for those who enjoy that kind of living. To me, a glimpse of a country farm in Vermont is a vision of heaven on earth. If I find out they have Internet cable, I’m moving there!

Pat