They’re not too much to look at, but here are my recent conquests on the finding-gravestones-that-actually-belong-to-my-ancestors front. The one on the top (with the weird wedding cake-like carving!) is my great-great-great-great grandmother Deborah Joy Talbot’s, at Aspinwall Burying Ground in Putnam. She was born on September 30, 1738 in Rehoboth, MA and died on December (or October; sources vary) 8, 1809 in what was then part of the town Killingly, CT but became part of Putnam when the new town was created from parts of Killingly, Thompson, and Pomfret in 1855. Her husband, Jared Talbot, is also buried in this graveyard, but I couldn’t find his stone. There are a lot of unreadable ones. (I don’t know what the deal is with the slate stone that’s submerged in the ground in front of Deborah’s stone, but I thought it was interesting. It has faint carvings on it, but I couldn’t make out any actual words. She also has a foot stone in place, so it’s not that.)

The one on the bottom is for Deacon Benjamin Sabin, one of my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfathers. He was born on July 3rd, 1646 in Rehoboth, MA and died on July 21, 1725 in Pomfret, CT where he is buried in Sabin Burying Ground. He was one of the 13 original pioneer settlers of Woodstock, CT (in 1686), and moved to nearby Pomfret in 1705. There’s an interesting writeup about him online. It says he was the second burial in this graveyard and was “one of the most useful and respected citizens of Pomfret.” Thankfully, the more recent memorial in the last photo is behind the original gravestone, since the old stone is almost impossible to read. This is our translation!

I just got home, and caught someone IN THE ACT! Birds don’t belong on chairs, silly turkey.

Our lady slippers are out! We have two, just like last year. It’s very hard to get a good photo because they hide in an extremely awkward spot. Lady slippers are secretive.

Wow, I had my car iPod in shuffle mode and “Pay in Blood” just randomly came on. I haven’t listened to it much since Tempest first came out and I immediately had three distinct strong flashbacks to September: 1) Center Cemetery in a Rocky Hill (bright blue day, finding William Whitmore’s stone), 2) ferry landing on the Rocky side (beautiful sunny late afternoon, long line but the ferryman had me go around the larger cars and squeezed me on), 3) stuck in slow traffic in Middletown, inching along but saved by Bob. Tempest sounds fantastic today! I’m going to play the whole thing. I love it when I have memory association with songs like that.

I had a very strong reaction when reading this paragraph of Gathering Moss today. “It’s the wandering itself that has such appeal, the unexpected discoveries while looking for something else.” YES. (Or while intentionally not looking for anything in particular.) And that applies to all sorts of places… the woods, the library, graveyards, the seaside, the grocery store, the bottom of the ocean…. I know it’s a luxury to be able to wander, and it’s one I’m so thankful for. It’s so relaxing, and holds such rewards and delights.

I had the entire ferry to myself on the ride to Rocky Hill! No cars. Just $1 walk-on Laura and her shad bag. Beautiful beautiful day. Sun on my back, wind in my hair, rippling river, birdsong. And the most delicious fish ever.

Ollie has two flowers now and is working on his third! Actually, the second one opened last week, but I was a slack about taking a picture because it’s really hard to get a decent photo of Ollie’s flowers. But I am so proud of him! The first one still looks perfect, too, even though he’s had it for two weeks.

Got up early Sunday morning to go to The Fruit Hunters in Hartford! It only showed once, and at just eleven theaters around the country. Pretty exciting: one of my favorite obsessions (weird fruits), plus, Ken Love, my fruit expert friend in Hawaii, is one of the stars.

It was great! Dean and I both loved it. Only nine people showed up (??!) but we were all very enthusiastic. I can’t believe the turnout was so bad. It was the cover story in The Hartford Advocate alternative newspaper this week (I cut out the article and sent it to Ken), but I guess that didn’t draw too many people out. People don’t know what they’re missing. We were completely absorbed, and Ken was fantastic! Also, we were totally cracking up when they showed one of the “It’s A Crime” signs. Heh.

Later we went to see The Great Gatsby in Berlin. TWO movies on the same day?! Well, it was all cold and rainy. Tix were only $5 apiece! At my “??!” response to the ticket-seller, she told me the theatre was recently bought by a new company and their mission is to make prices as cheap as possible to try to sell tickets. Good idea, because there’s never anyone there.

Afterwards, we went to the NEW BERLIN STARBUCKS and I kept repeatedly saying, “This is a nice Starbucks.” Hahaha. My mind is blown that there’s an SBUX in Berlin now. It really is a nice Starbucks.

So green and so blue. There were turtles on Turtle Isle. ♥

Eastford Dot Carver! I adore every one of his stones! And I love that there are so few of them. That makes them extra special. I’ve seen nine so far and I only have ten left to find.

I wonder why there are two stones for Captain John Parry, just like how Eastford Dot carved two stones for Ruth Bicknell? So strange!

Would it be unpatriotic to admit that I hate the American flags placed in cemeteries next to veterans’ stones? They are so cheap and raggedy and block the beautiful and historic carvings. I always remove them (and then put them back, of course) if I can when I take pictures of individual stones. But I wish they weren’t in any of my shots at all! With everything else natural and timeless (sky, grass, trees, wildflowers, stone), the plastic and polyester seems so wrong. They just look out of place (especially when the stone is from 1746, for example) and, because the materials are such poor quality, they look really junky. It’s especially disgraceful when they’re all torn and dirty! Flags should be given more respect than to look like trash.

[Notes from this afternoon:]

198! I had no idea you could get to Eastford this way.

Eastford’s old burying ground is pretty darned pleasant. Lots of birdsong, a “beautiful sedgy marsh” (James Slater’s description) across the road, nice rustic fieldstone wall, and a very charming rusted loopy iron gate with original hitching posts on either side. Nature is starting to encroach along one border, though: there’s an entire row of stones whose faces you can’t see unless you stand squeezed against a thick hedge of 8-foot high bushes, and a second row that’s lost INSIDE the bushes!

Oh wow, I love love love LOVE the Eastford Dot Carver! Also, I realized why my legs/shoes keep turning yellow: buttercups. LOTS of buttercups.

This is such a nice, relaxing little yard and the temperature is just perfect and the light fantastic. I love it so much!

Why is it PARTLY SUNNY? (I.e., mostly cloudy.) What happened to CLEAR? Nooooooo. Well, I’m going anyway, and if I can’t see the gravestones I’ll be bummed but I’ll do something else in the Putnam/Eastford/Woodstock area. It’s too nice a day and too good an opportunity.

Notes from today’s random visit to Memento Mori burying ground in Farmington:

Wow, Farmington needs to take better care of its old burying ground! I’m kind of shocked. All these historical homes everywhere, Miss Porter’s School, the Hill-Stead Museum, etc., but the cemetery is a mess. There’s nowhere to park, it isn’t mowed, and a lot of trees/branches have fallen on 18th century stones and broken them right off. They are lying on the ground with tree parts still on top of them. Sad!

The entire cemetery is bordered by a row of shoulder-to-shoulder foot stones separated from their head stones, arranged around the ugly chain-link fence like a second inner fence of stone. Crazy! At least they’re still here, though.

Too bad I’m not on a wildflower identification mission instead of a gravestone mission… this place is thick with them. All kinds!

Yay, I found my ancestor’s stone, at least! Rev. Samuel Hooker, great great x 1 zillion (11th generation) grandfather. He has a table stone (one of only two in the whole yard).

Interesting: I keep noticing surnames I recognize from Berlin!

Wow—“ss B No. 8 1685”! I have no idea what that means, but it’s OLD! (Too bad it’s not No. 6.)

Okay, enough of that! I’m hot and my legs are YELLOW with pollen. Some really nice stones, but the place is a disgrace for a rich and historical town like Farmington. Next stop: opening day of the Wethersfield Farmers’ Market!

P.S. Meanwhile, blankety-blank blank Riverside Cemetery is being meticulously attended to by no less than four trimmer guys, less than a block away. What the heck.

[Edit: Yes, that stone says “Disappointed Ho”! I don’t know who the carver is… one of the Johnsons, I guess. The broken off stone is a very nice Asa Hill for Abigail Hooker, and the appropriately appalled looking one is a Gershom Bartlett with weirdly sunken eyes. There were a lot of good Bartletts, and, fortunately, they had all escaped ruin! (For now, at least. There are lots more large and dangerous trees ready for doom! I love trees, but they should be banned from graveyards.) I don’t know who carved the No. 8 stone, but wow it is cool. 1685!!

I’ll post photos of some of the good stones soon, but not right away because I’m planning an adventure for tomorrow! There were some neat carvers that I don’t encounter as often, since Farmington is west of the Connecticut River and therefore outside my usual territory.]

It’s so pretty! Also, MOST DELICIOUS FISH EVER. Yes, I’m partial, but, also, it’s true.