My grandfather, using leftover house paint, did this one of Camp Chalfont sometime in the 1950s. He wanted us to remember that a room was added to the back, so he painted it sticking out the side! My mother used to say that I was a bit like him. What a great compliment.
The lake was so beautiful this evening. I caught nothing. Irrelevant.
There’s a large flat rock way across the lake where I go to read sometimes. Our cabin is on the distant shore. One could absorb vitamin D over one’s entire body out there if one wanted to. There’s no one over there. 🙂
My girls grew up rowing all over the 2 1/2 mile lake. They were the 4th generation to grow up here. Jennie enjoyed it more than Marta I think. She caught and released many chain pickerel. They are really slimy and have needle like teeth. Tough she is my kid. I remember Cousin Ed teaching me to tie my shoes while sitting with my feet hanging over the edge of the living room top bunk. I remember spitting watermelon seeds and eating corn on the cob. These were our family vacations. Usually with other members of the family as well. Memorial Day. Fourth of July. Labor Day. All spent here.
I love this place. I love that my grandchildren come here. Generation 6. I’m hoping I’m not the last one who has these deep feelings for Camp Chalfont. 1929 until now, 2016. That’s 87 years.