JUNE 22, 1936
HYDE PARK—Yesterday morning was cloudy but it cleared and turned out to be a lovely day. After taking Miss Cook to the train, I went over to see my mother-in-law and the children at the big house and found my small grandson ready to show me with pride that he could trot in the field. He is riding the same horse that my daughter practically broke and trained years ago. This horse has rather a hard mouth because she has been ridden by so many different people, but she is old and gentle and as he is still on a leading rein whoever is with him can hold her in. My grandson really has a very nice seat for such a little boy.
After lunch I drove myself up to see my aunt, Mrs. David Gray and her husband, who have been spending a few days at the old house in Tivoli where we all grew up. There are no younger members of the family who either wish to take it over, or who are financially able to do so, so I think they will have to try to sell it. The question being, of course, whether it is possible to do so. No place I imagine ever seems to any one exactly the same as the house and grounds where one spent years of one's childhood, and Maude Gray and I have a deep feeling for this particular spot on the Hudson River, but neither of us are at present leading lives which make it possible to keep this place. We sat on the porch and looked at the old oak trees and visions of the past floated before our eyes. I saw some one use a witch hazel rod for finding water for the first time in my life, and tried it myself without any success!
I started for home about six o'clock. On the way up I picked up two boys from Camp Smith and had driven them a certain distance on their way to Hudson. On my way back I was stopped behind a car at a red light, two small children jumped out, dashed back and asked: "Are you Mrs. Roosevelt?" I admitted that I was, but told them to go back at once because the light was turning. By the next light I had passed them but they were still right behind me, and this time the little girl and boy dashed out with a branch of red rambler roses which they handed me remarking: "We're so glad to have met you, Mrs. Roosevelt." Such are the adventures of the open road!
A quiet supper on the porch and a long evening of reading aloud. Sunday has dawned bright and clear and we will have the morning here before I have to start on the way back to Washington.