Earlier this week I had a day off and I didn’t have any other appointments or commitments. A whole day to myself! It was rainy and cold, but still, a whole day off to myself. I have a number of “things to do” on a list I keep in the back of my mind for just such a day. Most of them would be more fun on a sunny warm day, but you take what you can get. So I headed off to Hidden Lake Gardens, about two hours south of me and just north of a town I lived in when I was a little girl. My folks used to take all four of us there on occasion; I can remember a narrow road and big willow trees near a pond which held the best thing of all: swans.
Back then there was no such thing as the internet, heck we still had rotary phones, but today I can share the gardens with you by providing this link:
http://hiddenlakegardens.msu.edu/
And these pictures I took on my dark and dreary cold rainy afternoon trip. Which was, by the way, a blast from the past. (You can click on the first picture to make it bigger, and then move through them by clicking on the “next.”)
Sadly there were no swans at the small pond, but the willow trees were there. And the winding drive through the woods was really fun. I could just image Dad maneuvering our big station wagon full of kids around the hairpin curves, the rear view mirrors just fitting between the trees.
At the rare conifer garden it began to rain in earnest, so I packed it in and drove the rest of the way to the town I lived in until I was ten. Nothing much looked familiar as I drove into town. But I just stopped thinking and let my heart drive the car and low and behold, with only one missed corner, there I was in front of the house we all lived in way back in the 60’s!

I sat in front of the house long enough that someone finally came and looked out the window. I moved along then, not wanting to appear to be a stalker! When we lived there the house was gray with either white or black shutters. I say black, my Mom always said they were white. She was probably right. The house next to the one I lived in is for sale. I went online later to see what the values are on that street and was amused to see they are just a little over 10 times what my parents paid for the house back in 1961.

Driving around the neighborhood memories popped into my head, along with the names of friends who had lived in some of the houses I passed. I even found the first little house we lived in initially when we moved to town; the house my two brothers were brought home to from the hospital when they were born, almost 50 years ago.
The only way I could find my elementary school was to drive along the route I walked way back when I was five. I remembered my Mom saying I had to cross two “big” streets, so again I just let my brain follow my heart, and there was the school. Funny how much you can remember when you stop trying.
On my way out of town I stopped at the public library where I first discovered my love of reading. It looks like a castle, doesn’t it? It’s a museum now, but when I was a little girl we came to this building once a week; we were all allowed to pick out books for Dad and Mom to read to us, and later, for us to read aloud to them.

In front of the library is a sculpture of a little boy in glasses, reading a book, sitting on top of the world. That wasn’t there when I was a kid, but it sure is cute!

I stopped at a diner for some supper before leaving town, read the local paper and remembered. Everything here was the same but not. Since I had been so young when we left, I didn’t have clear memories of much of the town, so changes didn’t feel like changes to me. The main buildings of my youth— my homes, my school and my library were still there, still largely unchanged, a time capsule waiting for my discovery.
This place was the beginning of who I am today. The preamble to the now. It’s nice to know that it’s still out there.
On the way home, listening to a country station I realized through the haze of my musings that someone was singing the chorus to a song: “There’s too many memories for one heart to hold.” True.

August 28, 2009 at 10:00 am
How cool! Thanks for sharing your trip back in time. It was really interesting.
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August 28, 2009 at 10:40 am
What wonderful pictures and memories! Thanks for sharing them. I had no idea Hidden Gardens existed but now I look forward to visiting sometime.
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August 28, 2009 at 10:41 am
What a great day! Love all the photos~especially of the library, what a great place to discover books!
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August 28, 2009 at 2:14 pm
What a wonderful day. The gardens were beautful. Diana
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August 29, 2009 at 6:22 am
What a great day and a terrific idea of something to do on your day off! My mom hasn’t been back to the town she grew up in for a long time but if she did go, she would do many of the same things you did! It is fun to take a walk down memory lane.
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August 29, 2009 at 8:13 am
That was a wonderful adventure, thank you so much for sharing. The gardens were just gorgeous and that little is just the cutest.
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August 29, 2009 at 11:50 pm
What a wonderful trip back in time. It’s always nice to see pictures of place that you wouldn’t necessarily visit yourself 🙂
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August 30, 2009 at 7:40 am
Love the thought of letting your heart take over your head and the discoveries that can be made that way. Although, thinking back on my life there were times I should’ve let my head be in charge! LOL
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August 30, 2009 at 12:40 pm
Sometimes the heart knows what the head can’t remember.
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August 30, 2009 at 5:32 pm
It is good to remember. My parents lived in the same house for an eternity. They moved in around 1960. My Mom passed away at home in January 2008. My last day home was in October 2008 and my Dad left for the nursing home in late November after his stroke. I remember much that has changed in that little town. The freinds and people there. My “nickle dog” Pudgy.
Dog Dad Joe
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August 30, 2009 at 8:48 pm
Dawn & Katie,
The story about my “five scent” or “nickle dog” was my third post. http://keywestcollies.blogspot.com/2007/06/five-scent-dog.html
There are a couple of other places I talk about him, if you click the lable Pudgy. They will take you to those brief trips down memory lane.
I was in third grade when Pudgy entered my life for only a brief period. I’ll admit that I was far to young for the reponsibility of a dog. My parents decided it was best not to have a dog around with two new born infants in the house. My never knowing what happened to Pudgy led me to droping a note and then visiting the previous owners of Deacon (AKA Laddie).
Dog Dad Joe
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September 2, 2009 at 5:10 pm
Wow, that park is SO not a california park! It’s gorgeously lush. Love the hostas. They’ll grow here, actually, but in a nice moist sheltered garden. (I have some in pots now that do so-so–they’d rather be in the ground.) How much fun to go back and see your old places! I’d have to get wayyyy out of town (like across the country) to see any of my early homes.
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