Day 54... The People we Live Near To

No casting yet. Today, Today is the day I get it done.



Torringford street... Walmart now on the right



I met my neighbor a few days ago mowing his lawn. We finally stopped to chat and I found out he is the one who has our missing cat, Rascal. Rascal has been living happily in their house for 5 or so years under the name of Cleo. Ernie and his wife have lived out back for 16 years.  Has it been that long?  22 years ago, I moved back to this house and property. Our 14 acres of woods and fields were sold by then to a developer. My grampa was old and someone made him an offer around 20K.  Twenty years ago there was still a stone wall out back. It would be running through this man's house. Where his back deck is, there was an excellent pear tree, still giving us pears in 1978.  My grandfathers horse was burried somewhere near this man's tool shed.  A spring bubbled up in front of his house. My dad would put fish he caught in it to keep them fresh I guess before we ate them. The spring is now contained in a culvert and a tar road splits over it to form a loop for the other 20 houses back there.

It is quite a change.  I know most of my neighbors by sight. Over the years we have had two neighborhood parties. I know the folks surrounding me by name. I know a few up the street that lived here since I was a child. I know some of the parents of my girls' friends. I know some from my old church. I know some from tag sales. One I know because his dog has attacted me a couple of times. I know others because their dog was lost and wandered in my yard. I know some who attend my open house in November.

There are teenagers who walk by from the school bus or on there way to Walmart or McDonalds. They don't usually say hello. They look at the ground or in front of them. They are an isolated lot. I feel for teenagers. They are trapped in these developing bodies full of hormones in a world where adults tell them what to do and when. I say hello to them. I would like to invite them over to sit on the big step and talk or give them some clay to play with. But they usually walk on by.  Little kids over the years wander into the yard and want to stay and play. My neighbors have sterile, well mowed half acre lots. Some have basketball hoops and pools are a big thing for the younger set.



Albrecht Road... 1945ish

 Forty five years ago, my brother and I played out back in the woods. We had trails and forts out there. Blueberry bushes were still there. We went fishing in "Crockett's Pond", fed the cows at Connecticut Livestock, went sliding on the roads and took our bicyles everywhere. We had twenty houses of neighbors on our street.

Seventy years ago, my mom picked blueberries, apples and strawberries, played around the cows and chickens, rode her bike up the dirt road that ran by our house and took lots of photos of her pets, plants and friends with her Brownie camera. There were no other houses or neighbors on the street.

One hundred years ago, there were twin boys living here. Reginald and Winthrop played with their dog, picked blueberries, walked these fields and woods. Climbed these trees. The road ran to our house and from their up was a dirt trail. No neighbors.

Reginald and Wintrop with family blueberry pickers 1910



The Torringford school where Taco Bell is now (1910)



One hundred and fifty years ago, Jennette, Maryette and Martha lived here. The little girls only had cousins to play with. Cousins lived down on the "other" road. I am not sure what they did for fun. I suppose they picked blueberries. Back then, they went to church on Sunday. A mile and a half up the road was the old white church where neighbors gathered to share food and faith. One quarter of a mile up the road was the one-room school where the girls would meet up with neighbors a mile away. There were a couple of stores where neighbors gathered for news and gossip and to exchange goods.

A Torringford Street... Albrecht Road? 1910

I wish we had a local store or cafe where the neighbors would meet each other once and a while.  We have a quicky mart, owned by an old neighbor family. I meet some neighbors there, but there are many travelers stopping in for Dunkin' Donut coffee or a coke. They hurry in and hurry out.  Where the school house was is a Taco Bell, but I haven't been in there yet.  I meet neighbors at Walmart and Price
Chopper on the other corner.  There is where the neighbors meet. In the food isles. Amid strangers from "down town" and strangers from out of town.

I wish there was a cafe on the corner. Somewhere I could walk up for breakfast, sit with my feet near a wood stove or slide into a booth with my neighbors and talk about the gas prices and what is going on down town.  We could have local musicians come in on Saturday Morning and jam. The friendly owner of the cafe would make home made soup and pie, and you would put it on a tab.

There is a Panera bread 1/2 mile up the street, but it has sterile isolated booths and predictable food and coffee. I want to meet the neighbors. I want a place to socialize. I want the neighbors to have a place to go for a cheap real breakfast or to unwind after a work day instead of watching TV at home.

On the other hand, I think I could be happy living like a hermit most of the time. I enjoy just staying home with my yard and work, my dog, cat and family.

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