Growing up along these shores we became familiar with stories,songs,fiddles,piano,harmonica and accordion or the squeeze box,my Grandpa Herman called it.  We gathered weekly for such entertainment.Stories about tinkers,Indians, and ghosts were common among the  old ones, who loved to keep their land and its people alive into the next generation.

The last walking salesman was the Raleigh's man, who walked each month through our dirt roads carrying and old leather suit case.

We were told to play very carefully along the woodland pathways behind our house,and not to walk on the Indian graves there.I always felt connected to them and would look for them as I went through the woods to Gran Fenton"s house.I would learn 40 years later of my true nature as an adoptee.My great, great Grandmother and Grandfather  on my mother Carter's side were Amerindian.Living alomg the shores of the St.John river.
We hope you enjoy your visit here and make time in your life to appreciate nature along your life path.May you walk in beauty all your days always.  Caithleeen