JULY 29, 1939
HYDE PARK, Friday—At last we have had a little gentle rain. Of course, it wouldn't satisfy either the farmers or the garden lovers, but it is a help. For that reason, I didn't complain at all when I found myself driving through a misty rain most of the time yesterday afternoon, which, around Brewster, N. Y., developed into a regular downpour for about half an hour.
For weeks we have been promising ourselves a drive through Connecticut and a visit with our friends Esther Lape and Elizabeth Read in Westbrook, Conn., but one thing and another has turned up and we kept putting it off. I looked at Miss Thompson's desk and at mine yesterday and realized what one day of neglect could do. I was almost inclined to think that it was better never to leave home. But after lunch we did get off at three o'clock.
Remembering last year's devastation from the hurricane, I was agreeably surprised to find how quickly nature heals her scars. Even in the villages where there used to be a continuous line of old trees, there seemed to be a few old ones left and the young ones are coming up, so that the village greens will soon be shaded again.
Miss Lape and Miss Read have done wonderful things in clearing fallen trees from their woods, but it was a sad sight to see one giant maple completely prostrate and many great branches torn away from the oaks and larger maples. Miss Lape and I walked down through their woods to a place where they have built a rustic table. They have a nice view out from under the trees across the marshland to the gently moving marshy river and I don't wonder that they enjoy going down there for lunch.
We had a very pleasant evening got up at an early hour this morning and left for the homeward drive at eight-fifteen. I find New Haven, Conn., perfectly impossible to get through without being lost, so we tried a road which is a little longer but completely escapes New Haven. It took us no longer to get home.
I suppose I had better make a confession. I was stopped by a highway patrol officer yesterday. My boys have always said that it would give them great satisfaction if I would be arrested and I think yesterday I came very near receiving more than the gentle reprimand which was given to me. I had been talking and apparently not watching my speedometer, so I was firmly convinced that I had never gone over 45, and the patrol officer quite as firmly told me I was going 60, and that 50 was "tops" for a rainy day on those roads. I was most humble about it, for when you are in the wrong you might as well own up to it, even when it was unintentional. I was sent on my way a much chastened and more careful individual, by a very polite but firm gentleman.
Now we are back and the desks look even more cluttered than they did yesterday, so I'd better get to work.