Deep Dale

My great-grandfather built a house in Berkshire Valley, New Jersey, using recycled timber from a barn that once stood on that property. He raised chickens and goats and also worked as switchman at the nearby railroad branch. He was something of a gentleman farmer and went to extravagant lengths to have enough ice in the summer (buried in saw dust in the barn) to have ice cream! He was curious by temperament, and would have students from an agricultural science school come to the farm to experiment with various breeds of chickens. Unfortunately, he died when my grandmother was a girl, but she remembered enough of him to tell me once that I reminded her of him. It was a fine compliment that I've always treasured.

"Deep Dale," the house he built, is now my mother's. Betsy and I gave her this sign for Christmas. Every time I go home one of my first rituals is to open up the fridge, as though to make sure we have enough food! I think this dates back to my high school days when I was doing several sports and ate thousands and thousands of calories a day!

-t