Country Road Take Me Home.....

This morning, as I took my 3 mile walk, I came upon the Town of Clayton workers grading our old dirt roads. As I looked down the tree lined paths, I was reminded of how fortunate I am to live in a place where nature is unspoiled, where people still display the American flag with pride and every neighbor is a best friend. It reminded me of this poem (author unknown) that was sent to me a few years ago.

Dirt Roads

What's mainly wrong with society today is that too many Dirt Roads have been paved.
There's not a problem in America today, crime, drugs, education, divorce, delinquency that wouldn't be remedied, if we just had more Dirt Roads, because Dirt Roads give character.
People that live at the end of Dirt Roads learn early on that life is a bumpy ride.
That it can jar you right down to your teeth sometimes, but it's worth it, if at the end is home. . . A loving spouse, happy kids and a dog.
We wouldn't have near the trouble with our educational system if our kids got their exercise walking a Dirt Road with other kids, from whom they learn how to get along.
There was less crime in our streets before they were paved.
Criminals didn't walk two dusty miles to rob or rape, if they knew they'd be welcomed by 5 barking dogs and a double barrel shotgun.
And there were no drive by shootings.
Our values were better when our roads were worse!
People did not worship their cars more than their kids, and motorists were more courteous, they didn't tailgate by riding the bumper or the guy in front would choke you with dust or bust your windshield with rocks.
Dirt Roads taught patience.
Dirt Roads where environmentally friendly, you didn't hop in your car for a quart of milk. You walked to your barn for the milk.
For you mail, you walked to the mail box.
What if it rained and the Dirt Road got washed out? That was the best part, then you stayed home and had some family time, roasted marshmallows and popped popcorn and pony rode on Daddy's shoulders and learned how to make prettier quilts than anybody.
At the end of Dirt Roads, you soon learned that bad words tasted like soap.
Most paved roads lead to trouble. Dirt Roads more likely lead to a fishing creek or a swimming hole.
At the end of a Dirt Road, the only time we even locked our car was in August, because if we didn't some neighbor would fill it with too much zucchini.
At the end of a Dirt Road, there was always extra springtime income, from when city dudes would get stuck, you'd have to hitch up a team and pull them out.
Usually you got a dollar. . . Always you got a new friend. . . At the end of a Dirt Road!

Author Unknown

Salt and I just returned form the BEST Chinese dinner. The river was so beautiful, we took the long way home. We passed the old cottage on Hay Island where Bill and I raised our children during the summers. The new owners are erecting a new boathouse to replace the one Bill and I built so many years ago. It was kind of sad but on the other hand made me chuckle to remember the tenacity Bill possessed. Our dear friend and neighbor, the late Walter Pullaw, came over right after we finished putting the cribs for the new docks in. He looked at them for a few minutes and turned to Bill and said..."Those are WAY bigger than you need; there isn't enough rock in the St. Lawrence River to fill those! Well....Bill never said a word(while he was seething inside) but took me, and a 12' aluminum boat and we started lifting rock from the bottom of that river. We worked non stop for 3 days and before we left for home guess what
those cribs were FULL. Of course, Bill did invite Walter over to "check it out"!

After returning from our boat ride this evening, the sun was just setting...Another spectacular Canadian sunset. We had actually never watched a sunset from our new building lot so we hopped on the 4 wheeler and scooted over. What a treat...The view is spectacular. We can't wait to get the house up and view it from our deck!

We ended the evening with a quick trip to Betty and Frank's so Pop could have one of Emma's homemade ice cream cones.