"'Thee did well, child, to come to to the Meadow. There is always a cure here when the heart is troubled.'"*

This past weekend I went on a Witchcraft and Tombstone tour in Old Wethersfield, CT, and, as a part of the tour, we visited the Buttolph-Williams house. Built in 1711, this house is the inspiration for the home of the Wood family in the Newbery award winning book The Witch of Blackbird Pond. ::cue my friend MEM having literary tour envy::


I had loved that book as a child, and it was the book that I read the very first night in my new house. (I love to reread old favorites from childhood when I am sick or nervous or blue. I don't know if it is the story or nostalgia or a combination of the two, but it always makes me feel better.) The novel, for those who haven't read it, tells the story of a young woman, Kit Tyler, who, after the death of her parents and beloved grandfather, leaves her privileged life in Barbados to live with her mother's sister and her uptight upright Puritan family in Wethersfield, Connecticut in 1687. Kit has difficulty fitting in with both her family and the community and finds herself becoming friends with other outsiders, including a old Quaker woman named Hannah who lives in a shack by the river and who is a suspected witch, which then throws suspicion on Kit!! SO GOOD!!!


I was really excited to visit the house that inspired the novel. I probably read the book for the first time in the fourth grade. We had a hardcover copy that had been discarded by the public library, and I loved the faded cover illustration of a girl in a meadow with the wind blowing her hair and clothes. There was something so free about that girl, which is very indicative of the book. (Who am I kidding? I still love that illustration. Also, I want to go to Barbados for the sole reason that Barbados is where the heroine Kit "grew up".)


One of the things I'd liked about the book was that it was set in my home state, in a town not far from mine. As a child, I had been really interested in the Salem Witch Trials and had taken out several books about them and witchcraft in general from the elementary school library. (In retrospect, I wonder if the librarian loved me or thought I was crazy.)  But this book isn't scary; it's about independence and freedom and standing up for yourself, framed in a historical context. (It's kind of a Johnny Tremain for girls.)  Girl power, circa 1690.


While the Buttolph-Williams house doesn't date back quite so far (built in only 1711), it is still one of the oldest houses in Old Wethersfield, and the preservation work on the house is impressive. I definitely want to go back and tour some of the other historical houses in Old Wethersfield and spend some more time poking around the old village burying ground. Gershom Bulkeley, who is a historical figure who features in The Witch of Blackbird Pond, is buried in the older part of the cemetery.


Sadly, Blackbird Pond no longer exists in Old Wethersfield (it dried up and they built the overpass for Route 3 where Hannah's house would have been), but it still exists in the pages of a great book and the imaginations of readers of all ages.



*The Witch of Blackbird Pond

"Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid / Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire"*

We had some really unseasonably warm weather this November, and, on one warm Sunday earlier in the month, I took my camera for a walk through Mt. Auburn Cemetery. When I was a kid, after church on Sundays, my dad would sometimes take us for a drive through the old cemetery in our town, and we would try to find the oldest grave marker. It would get us thinking about what life would have been like for that person: were they born in America or were they immigrants? were they alive during the Civil War? during the American War for Independence?

Because of that, I never think of graveyards as spooky, well, at least not until it starts getting dark...I think I spotted a number of those Weeping Angels from "Doctor Who" on my walk.... EEK!










*Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard, Thomas Gray
The full stanza reads: "Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid / Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;/ Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed, / Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre."

"Miss Post" Recently Said that I am the Gothiest Prep She's Ever Met

On Saturday morning, which just so happened to be the first time in a week that Bostonians had seen the sun, JR and I met up with a few of her friends and visited the Boston Athenaeum to see Elegant Enigmas: The Art of Edward Gorey. It was a fantastic exhibit of Gorey's work, including: illustrations from his books, set and costume designs from theater productions, and a series of watercoloured envelopes from letters he had sent to his mother that looked like something out of Monty Python. I have loved Edward Gorey's artwork since Mrs. Fay, our elementary school librarian, introduced my class to The Shrinking of Treehorn by Florence Parry Heide, illustrated by Edward Gorey. The story was funny, but the drawings were what I'd remember most.

Over the years, I have collected a lot of Gorey's books, and I have collected or been given a quite a bit of Gorey memorabilia over the years: calendars, magnets, and even a Dracula toy theater (thanks, PunkRockMom!). I even have a signed copy of one of his books that I bought in Chatham the summer after he died. It wasn't until seeing this exhibit, however, that I realized how much the images reproduced in some of the books (the Amphigoreys in particular) are lacking in quality in comparison to the originals. They are so delicate and meticulous; it was like looking at some images I have known forever for the very first time. This was a wonderful way to spend a morning.

JR and I then took a walk through the Common, and after we went our separate ways, I walked over to the King's Chapel Burying Ground. I had never actually been IN that particular cemetery, and, as it is the oldest one in Boston, with graves dating back to the mid-17th century, I wanted to check it out. It didn't disappoint; there were some really interesting and unique stones, some of which have held up remarkably well despite the New England weather.





Cool Anglo historical thing I learned while I was there: King's Chapel was built in 1688 on land next to the already established burial ground because the Puritan city fathers didn't want to sell the Anglicans any land to build a church. During the War of American Independence, the Chapel was called the "Stone Chapel".

It was a great day for walking around in town. Sometimes I forget how much fun it is to live in Boston! (Although, if I had lived during the 17th century, the Puritans would SO have kicked me out of Boston. Probably would have ended up in Connecticut!)

Momento Mori

Most of my day today was spent downtown, which is something I don't do often enough. I live in Boston; I should take more advantage of going downtown (especially when you can park in the Common Garage all day for $11 on the weekend, as I learned today.) This morning I met my friend "Miss Post" at the movie theater at the Boston Common; we saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1. It was no surprise after having a complete meltdown on several occasions while reading the book that this was a four hankie (well, Kleenex, in my case) film for me. After the film, we had some lunch and rehashed the film (and possibly cried some more, but I am not telling.) Then we split up as Miss Post went off to run errands, and I went to the Granary Burial Ground on Tremont Street.


The Granary Burying Ground is the third oldest cemetery in Boston, and it is the burial place of a lot of notable Revolutionary War figures. The men killed in the Boston Massacre are buried there, as are Paul Revere, John Hancock, and Samuel Adams. A lot of prominent colonial Bostonians are there too: the first mayor and the first governor as well as Peter Faneuil (of Faneuil Hall fame) and Benjamin Franklin's family (although that great man is buried in Philadelphia.) To walk through the graveyard is to walk through history.


I have been by this old cemetery many times, but this was the first time that I actually walked into it, poking around to look at the 17th and 18th century gravestones. Some of them are in marvelously good condition while others showed the wear and tear of exposure to centuries of New England weather. Sometimes I feel really self-conscious taking photos in Boston, but today I felt quite at home among the tourists as I took out my little camera and tried to capture the quiet beauty of the place on this sunny (but chilly) day at the end of autumn.


I know a lot of people don't like graveyards, but I find them beautiful. They are such restful places, as well as interesting. I find myself looking at the stones wondering who these people were and imagining what their lives were like. I wonder what people will think when they, years from now, look at mine.

"Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night"

My friend Diana passed along her copy of Audrey Niffenegger's Her Fearful Symmetry for me to read. (The title comes from the poem by William Blake referenced in today's title.) I was really excited about this book when I started because the premise is right up my alley: American twins are left a flat in London that overlooks Highgate Cemetery by their mother's twin sister whose ghost is haunting said flat.
Good Things checklist:

London - check

cemetery - check

ghosts - check

handsome British neighbor who is doing PhD thesis on Victorian cemeteries and funerary customs (That's my PhD thesis, if I were going to actually write one.) - check

What's not to love? (Or so I thought.) When I first started reading the book, I DID love it. In fact, I was enjoying it so much that I felt the need to text message status updates to JR (who had already read the book). They are as follows:

* This book has me longing for London. SIGH
* I wish someone would leave me a flat in London above a man like "Robert Fanshaw".
* Exactly halfway. If Robert becomes a prat, don't tell me. I couldn't bear it. He loves Pre-Raphaelites.
* Page 230, just IDed and translated the subjunctive from the Latin. Haven't had to do that in 15 years. EEK!

It was getting late when I stopped texting her, but I continued to read until midnight. The following morning I sent her this email:

* I never want to meet anyone like the people in this book EVER. OMG.

Don't you just hate it when that happens? Wonderful premise, ideal location, and then main characters that you would like to punch in the nose? In the words of the immortal Kevin Kline, in his Academy-Award winning role in A Fish Called Wanda: DISAPPOINTED!!! (I am sure that other people feel differently about the characters than I do; I would love to hear an explanation of why they shouldn't all be in therapy for life. The characters, not the people who like them, that is.)

On the upshot, I now know that I definitely want to add Highgate Cemetery to my itinerary for my next trip to London, whenever that might be. Here is a photo of another lovely Victorian garden cemetery: Mount Auburn Cemetery

Waiting for the Great Pumpkin...

Halloween is, was, and ever shall be my favorite holiday. What other holiday has scary movies, gobs of candy, and hot apple cider? And if you are lucky, a cool crisp fall night with a full moon!!!

Not at all like waiting for the Great Pumpkin

Back in July, JR and I went to the Forest Hills Cemetery Lantern Festival, which we had gone to three years ago. We got there on the later side, and my camera's battery was dying, but I still managed to grab a couple of decentish photos.

Nothing says "New England" like a cemetery at night.

With JR in JP

Last Thursday, JR and I went down to the Forest Hills Cemetery Lantern Festival after grabbing some supper at the Dogwood Cafe, where I had a fantastic French dip sandwich from the specials' menu. (Props to the Dogwood for toasting the roll; everything tastes better on toast.) Because we got to the cemetery on the later side, we missed taking pictures in the twilight, but I was able to capture a couple before my point and shoot camera's battery died.

Note to self: if you attend an event with the purpose of taking some cool photos (and trust me, JR and I were not the only ones. In fact some girl was asking JR questions about her camera because they had the same one, and she wasn't sure how to use it. Ah, youth.) double check that you have charged the battery. OOPS!

While I was a disappointed that I didn't get some better snaps, at least we didn't get eaten alive by mosquitoes. AND we had a really fun time catching up at dinner, which really was the more important part of the evening.

Mount Auburn Cemetery, Cambridge

Despite the poor weather forecast, Saturday turned out to be a gorgeous day, so I took myself and my new camera over to Mount Auburn Cemetery. It is such a beautiful and peaceful place (and a perfect example of the change in funerary customs at the end of the 19th century in America and Britain, ie. my imaginary PhD thesis.) I spent a couple of hours tooling around the cemetery listening to my audio tour and snapping photos here and there of things that caught my eye.

Autumn in New England

What started out as a beautiful weather week here in Boston has really degraded quite quickly into doom and gloom. It looks like it is going to pour any second. Hopefully, any rain will be over by the time the baseball game starts. Go Sox!

Here is a little sample of the gorgeous fall day that we had on Sunday. These shots are from Forest Hills Cemetery in Jamaica Plain, a Victorian garden cemetery here in the city.

Celebration Time, Come On

On July 13th, JR and I headed over to Forest Hills Cemetery in Jamaica Plain to partake in the 8th Annual Lantern Festival.
The blurb from the website reads:

The Lantern Festival
Once a year, Forest Hills hosts the Lantern Festival, an extraordinary community event attended by 3,000 people in 2000. Inspired by Buddhist traditions, this non-denominational ceremony offers a magical way to remember family and friends. After enjoying a program of music and dance, people inscribe the paper shades of simple wooden lanterns with greetings. At dusk, we light the lanterns and watch them float across Lake Hibiscus, bearing their messages to the world of the spirits.

I love Forest Hills Cemetery. It is a gorgeous Victorian garden cemetery, and I love poking about in it... well, except for the one time I spent two unsuccessful hours searching for ee cummings grave; I still haven't found it. However, I had never been to an event there, and I was a little bit concerned about it. I didn't know if it was going to be a somber sort of thing, but it was quite the opposite. There was dancing, loud ceremonial drumming, bagpipes, people running around with kids and dogs and picnicing on the lawn with candles and wine. It really was both a celebration of life as well as a memorial for those who have passed away. It also inspired me to think again on my PhD which I will never get: in funerary customs and spirituality in Victorian England.

We are SO going again next year with a large group of people, but this year we really just scoped it out, getting a sense of things. Next year, I will even get a lantern. I was just glad that we had the foresight to bring bugspray, because once the sun went down, things got a little buggy. I also did a funny Buffy impersonation, but I was missing a "Mr. Pointy" stake. As we left the cemetery in the dark, I have to admit that I was kind of glad that vampires aren't really real.