AUGUST 1, 1938
PATCHOGUE, N.Y., Sunday—Friday afternoon I said good bye to my grandchildren very sadly, for they will be gone in a few days and I shall not see them till I make my next trip to Seattle.
In Poughkeepsie I ran into some people who were much excited over the purchase by Father Divine of an estate across the river from my mother-in-law's house. I always feel sorry for anyone who has to sell a country place they have lived in and enjoyed for many years. One has so much more sentiment as a rule about one's country life. It must, however, be pleasant to feel that in the future this place will be "heaven" to some people, even if it cannot be to its former owner.
I had a little time to spare in New York. My brother met me and relieved me of a taxi-fare and my rather unusually large number of bags, and so I stopped at Finland House, Inc. I was much interested in their beautiful woven materials, glass, pottery and a modern type of furniture which would fit very well into a room of the sun porch variety.
From there I went on to the Pennsylvania Station to take the train for Long Island. I found long lines at every ticket window and murmured to myself, as would every old resident of the Hudson River Valley, "Nothing would induce me to live on Long Island." Of course, nothing would induce some of us to live anywhere else than where we are accustomed to living. But that isn't as flattering to the spot we are rooted in as it might seem. It simply means that most of us are lazy and like the things to which we are accustomed. For most of us it is far easier to move along a beaten track.
One of my hosts met me on the train and, in consequence, the trip went quickly. Just as we arrived at our station, the heavens opened and we saw the pretty and very efficient young girl who had come to meet us hop out of the roadster and start to put up the top. I decided it was part of wisdom to let those who knew what they were doing do the work and get wet and was therefore the only dry person to get into the car. There are advantages in being elderly and rather helpless.
We reached the "Little House," as it is called, in time to sit and cool off before dinner, and then our hostess served us a delicious meal on the porch. This is a beautiful place which gives you a feeling of remoteness, for you are buried deep in the woods. Just now the enjoyment of the woods is a trifle difficult because the prevailing winds have brought clouds of mosquitoes. They tell us that a northwest wind would drive them all away, so we pray for a change in the wind and realize anew how helpless we are in the face of Nature's vagaries.