Monthly Archives: August 2013

Summer’s Ending – August Afternoons

Summer’s Beginning:
A June night ~

Walked down to the Harbor tonight – the second really warm evening of the year.  Kids running around the Gazebo.  Families taking a walk, eating ice cream cones from Nona’s.  Folks sitting on their boats, having a glass of wine or a cold beer.  Guys hosing down their decks.  Young couples (oh, so young!) holding hands, making plans, their futures open as the sky.  It’s New England, after all.  So, on a night like this, people gobble it up as though it’s the first and only strawberry shortcake they will ever have.  Summer is here, at long last.

Summer’s Ending:
August Afternoons ~

Boo and I have gotten into the habit, over the summer, of riding down to the Harbor late every afternoon.  I have a three wheeler with a large basket in back; she sits there like the princess she is, watching the world go by at a comfortable pace, feeling safely off the ground.  We get down to the water’s edge, park and walk around a bit, stopping in at the Coast Guard Station and the Harbormaster to schmooze a bit.  The guys love Boo.  We talk about the rabbits that live under the shrubs and how it makes us so mad when the little kids chase them around, scaring them half to death.  The other day, I reported a huge dead seagull along the walkway.  They told me not to worry – the racoons would take care of that tonight.  I wonder aloud what might have happened to it; they tell me it probably just got old and  died – like all of us.  Except me, of course.

After grousing about being away from home all summer, I’ve finally gotten used to it.  I’ve structured new routines, scratched out my little daily ruts that comfort me so.  Life is fine.  The heat of the past couple of months has disappeared and left an umbrella of bright blue, a warm sun and cool ocean breezes.  This is nice….it’s like Punta Gorda in the middle of winter!

Speaking of Punta Gorda, it’s almost time to start packing up, preparing the migration back to Palms and Bougainvillea.  Bob decided to pull up some sea heather yesterday, while we were out in the kayaks – thinking he’s going to grow it in Florida.  We all know that’s not going to happen, but let him have his dreams.

I’m thinking about this term ‘snowbirds’ and wondering if I might start a new fad – changing it to SUNBIRDS.  I like the feeling of flying toward something, rather than away from something.  If I use it enough, maybe others will start to use it too.  Maybe make up some bumper stickers.  Watch for it.

My Life at the Marshfield Hills General Store


My Life
at
THE MARSHFIELD HILLS
GENERAL STORE

Long before Steve Carell expanded his celebrity and became famous for his role as “country store owner”,  the Marshfield Hills General Store had a century and a half history.  The village of Marshfield Hills is populated by a wide cross section of humanity – some whose families date back to the Civil War, many who have moved there from other states and other countries.  Some are successful business people, artists, writers, musicians, teachers doctors, celebrities – young, old and in between.  The store has served as the center of village activities for decades and the walls have plenty of stories to tell!

In My Life at the Marshfield Hills General Store, I introduce readers to many local characters and the stories that unfolded during my ‘turn’ as caretaker of the Store, which ended with its sale to Steve Carell at the end of 2008.  With vintage and contemporary photographs, I hope this collection of stories will be a welcome addition to the library of anyone who is familiar with the area, or who just loves anything pure Americana!

“….a blessing of a book.” – Ray Amorosi, Poet

“…a delightful read.” – Richard Wainwright, author of The Tale of the Scituate Lightkeeper’s Daughter

“…Sherry’s fine book thoughtfully and lovingly brings to life the store and its people for the 21st century.” – Dick Hall, Historian

 

My Life at the Marshfield Hills General Store will be available in September 2013
Contact Sherry Campbell Bechtold for information 617 827 0714, sherrybechtold@yahoo.com