This week's assignment is to look for patterns and/or textures along the seashore.
This month’s final assignment is to try creating a 3D image. Include elements in the foreground and background that work together to separate those two parts of the scene. My choices are from museums I have visited in the last year or so.
Metropolitan Museum of Art ~ New York City
Portland Maine Museum of Art ~ Portland, Maine
Albany Institute of History and Fine Art ~ Albany, New York. The exhibit was called ‘Well Dressed in Victorian Albany’.
Joseph Pettey Littlefield
My great grandfather Joseph P Littlefield was injured in the Civil War. He was a member of Co. C, 9th Maine Regiment. He was wounded at the battle of Cold Harbor in Virginia and sent home to Maine to die. He died on Sep 3, 1864 of his massive injuries but also of typhoidal pneumonia. His wife and the 3 oldest of his 8 children died within months of him from it as well leaving my grandfather Charles G Littlefield at age 9 the oldest of the five remaining children. A tragic story and once we learned about it felt compelled to find their graves and honor them. Their small plot is off the beaten track in Rome, Maine we found it and traipsed through the brush to get to it. Worth the trip indeed. This was very emotional in that Joseph, Martha Jane, Margaret, Adison and Atwood have become very real to us and we feel very close to them. We weren’t able to bring them flowers but left 5 pennies to indicate we were there and remembering them.
Take a moment to remember the original reason for Memorial Day and the men and women who fought for, and gave their lives for our country.
After spending the night in Waterville, Maine we headed to Portland. It was too cold and windy to meander around so we went to the Portland Museum of Art which was lovely.
Good-bye to Portland and onward to Kennebunkport where meandering was a little warmer and less windy. First stop was a coffee shop where we had tea and shared a delicious piece of blueberry crumb cake. Kennebunkport is quaint and sweet, lots of nice little shops to poke around in should you be so inclined.
Leaving there we headed back to Ogunquit for our last night in Maine. We stayed this time at the gorgeous Gorges Grant Inn. The room was lovely and our decision to have breakfast in their restaurant ‘Raspberries’ was a smart one. Yum.
After a good night’s rest it was time to say good-bye to Maine and head home to New Jersey. But wait… who said we had to go directly home, how about a stop in…. Salem, Massachusetts. Woooooooooo.
First stop… the Salem Witch Museum which I found very interesting (and not scary at all) 🙂 Second stop… Jolie Tea Company. The little cafe was a gem of a find, the tea was excellent as were the pastries… the staff was friendly and informative, we really enjoyed our short time there. Did bring home some tea and also ordered more from them.
This trip was all I hoped for and more thanks to my daughter Deb ❤
My daughter Deb and I made a recent pilgrimage to Maine, not only to enjoy the beauty and crisp autumn weather but to visit the graves of our relatives.
Our first night was spent in Ogunquit at the beautiful Colonial Inn.
You cannot go to Maine, or Ogunquit and not do these two things… have lobster roll and maybe blueberry pie too, which we did at Barnacle Billy’s. Yum.
…and walk on Marginal Way and down on the beach.
One of the main reasons for our trip was to visit this tiny little cemetery in Rome, Maine where my great-grandfather Joseph P Littlefield, my great-grandmother Martha Jane Ellis and their 3 oldest children (they had 8), Margaret, Adison and Atwood are buried.
My great grandfather Joseph P Littlefield was injured in the Civil War at the Battle of Cold Harbor, he was sent home to Maine to die, which he did, not only of his massive injuries but also of typhoidal pneumonia. His wife and the 3 oldest of his 8 children died within months of him from it as well leaving my grandfather Charles G Littlefield at age 9 the oldest of the five remaining children. A tragic story and once we learned about it felt compelled to find their graves and honor them. Their small plot is off the beaten track in Rome, Maine but Deb found it and we traipsed through the brush to get to it. Worth the trip indeed. This was very emotional in that Joseph, Martha Jane, Margaret, Adison and Atwood have become very real to us and we feel very close to them. We weren’t able to bring them flowers but left 5 pennies to indicate we were there and remembering them.
That’s Deb’s car parked on the side of the road by the telephone sub station box, the path to the cemetery is where the flag is.
From Rome, Maine we headed to Waterville, Maine where my mother was born and where my above mentioned grandfather, Charles G Littlefield is buried in the Pine Grove Cemetery. Although my grandmother’s name, Albra Mae Littlefield is on the stone she is actually buried on Martha’s Vineyard with her third husband.
Also in this plot is my mother’s sister Tessa Mae Littlefield Robertson Poulin, her husband Joseph Ezra Poulin, one of their daughers, Helen Brown and her husband Laurence Brown.
Thus ends our first full day in Maine and our cemetery visits.
Memorial Day was borne out of the Civil War and a desire to honor our dead. It was officially proclaimed on 5 May 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic. “The 30th of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers, or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village and hamlet churchyard in the land,” he proclaimed. The date of Decoration Day, as he called it, was chosen because it wasn’t the anniversary of any particular battle.In 1971, Congress established Memorial Day as the last Monday in May and as a federal holiday.
On my mother’s side of the family, my paternal great grandfather, Joseph Littlefield fought in the Civil War and died because of his wounds. He was wounded in the Battle of the Wilderness in 1864. He was sent home to Maine to die. He died of typhoidal pnemonia on Sep 30, 1864, he is buried in Rome, Maine. Unfortunately his wife and his 3 oldest children died of the same thing shortly thereafter, leaving my grandfather, Charles Littlefield at age 10 the oldest of the four remaining children.
Below is a photo of the veteran’s section in the Fairmont Cemetery in Newark, New Jersey, where, on my father’s side of the family my great great paternal grandfather, Stephen Freeman is buried. Stephen did not die in the Civil War but was wounded in the battle of Antietam in 1862. He was sent home, lived another 29 years and died on May 30, 1891, which ironically was Memorial Day.
Take a moment to remember the original reason for Memorial Day and the men and women who fought for, and gave their lives for our country.
Have a great Memorial Day and enjoy the weekend whatever you’re doing.
Maude Louise Littlefield
Born in Waterville, Maine
Raised on Martha’s Vineyard
my mother, Maude Louise and grandmother, Albra Mae – Oak Bluffs, 1924\
Moved to New Jersey after high school graduation and met a Jersey boy, Joseph Albert (Al)…
married him and had a Jersey girl (me)
The next to the last Mother’s Day I spent with my mom was May 1975. My parents were vacationing on the Cape and she was unaware that we were driving up from NJ to surprise her for the weekend. I gave her the book ‘Mostly On Martha’s Vineyard, A Personal Record’ by Henry Beetle Hough, as I knew she’d know some of the people mentioned in the book. I am so glad I did that because after reading the book she decided she wanted to sail over to the Vineyard to visit her mother’s grave. It turned out be her last trip to her beloved Vineyard.
Can’t let Mother’s Day pass without pictures of my sweeties…
Daughters Patty and Debbie…
Grandchildren Tiffany and Tyler…
On this Memorial Day I am remembering my great grandfather, Joseph P Littlefield
The following is copied from post my daughter Deb wrote … I couldn’t have said it better.
“Remembering: JOSEPH P. LITTLEFIELD of Rome, Maine. 40-years-old and father of eight children, my great-great-grandfather joined the Union army in the summer of 1864, just as the Civil War was grinding to its bitter, violent end. He was in Company C of the 9th Maine Regt, and badly wounded in the battle of Cold Harbor, shot through his left hand into his lower back. He was sent back home to Maine where he died two months later on 30 Sep 1864. According to his 24-year-old doctor, he died of “Typhoidal Pneumonia induced by wounds received in the Battle of the Wilderness, VA … the deceased soldier came to this death by reason of disease induced by a wound through the hand, contusion in his back, and subsequent exposure and fatigue in the field of battle, causing fever or “Typhoidal Pneumonia” from which he never recovered.” The pain must have been horrible.
Worse, adding insult to grievous injury, within a month of Joseph’s death, his wife and three oldest children also died, presumably from Typhoid or some other contagious fever. This left my 10-year-old great-grandfather Charles Littlefield the oldest of the five remaining children. I know how desperate both sides of the Civil War were by 1864 for men, but the idea that a 40-year old father of eight would sign up is appalling. And the fact that he not only died—horrible, but not unexpected for a soldier–but that he took his wife and three of his children with him?”
On this Memorial Day, remembering all who gave their lives for our country.
My mother, Maude Louise Littlefield Freeman was born in Waterville, Maine on March 11, 1907.
(my mother and her mother Albra Mae Flewelling Littlefield Grant Baird)
The picture below is one of my most favorite pictures of all time…
Raised on Martha’s Vineyard…
my mother and grandmother at their house on Circuit Ave in Oak Bluffs, 1924
After graduating from Oak Bluffs High School in 1926 she moved to Newark, NJ where she met, and married a Jersey boy… Joseph Albert Freeman
and had a Jersey girl (me)…
I have posted the above pictures etc several times here on my blog either on my mother’s birthday or on Mother’s Day so why am I doing it again this year ? During the past several months my daughter Deb and I (90% Deb) have been digging into the ancestry of our family. I posted back in October 2015 how my mother’s ancestors did indeed come on the first voyage of the Mayflower …. but since then Deb has discovered ancestors on mom’s side all over the place and going back many generations. She’s also discovered facts about my grandparents on my dad’s side which has been amazing since we didn’t know anything about them at all. But that’s a post for another time. Today it’s all about my mom, Maude Louise.
A friend asked me the other day to describe my mother…what was she like, what did she like to do. I pondered this question and found it was sort of a hard one to answer. To me my mother was funny and a little nutsy at times, a trait I’ve happily inherited by the way… she was kind and loving, a hard worker, she adored my dad, and me. She liked to crochet, she made tablecloths and doilies, and also made lace on handkerchiefs. She made one for my best friend to carry on her wedding day… when I got married I carried it as my ‘something borrowed’.. as did my daughter Patty when she got married.
She had her problems as well though, she went through a period of over a year when I was around 11 when she wouldn’t leave the house… at all… ever. She would wait for me to get home from school and then send me to the corner store for her cigarettes or milk or whatever. We didn’t know what to do about this but then the solution presented itself one morning when my dad was home and he took advantage of it. Mom was doing the wash in one of those machines that had wringers where you’d put the clothes through to get excess water off of them. Somehow my mother’s arm went half way through the wringer…she screamed.. my dad went running to see what was wrong. He quickly took the wringer apart and freed mom’s arm. She claimed she was okay but my dad being a policeman who had worked in the emergency squad division thought otherwise. And here’s where his genius solution to mom’s not wanting to leave the house came in. He said he was taking her to the hospital, she started up the stairs to get dressed (she was in her robe) and he said no, there wasn’t time for that. And then he took her to the worst, most crowded hospital in the city and left her there. He left her because I was due home for lunch break and someone had to be there. Of course when I got home I wondered why Mom wasn’t there and he said she’d gone shopping ! Shopping, really ! The woman hadn’t left the house in months and months and now she suddenly went downtown to go shopping. I was skeptical. When I came home from school later in the day there sat my mother all dressed up like she really had gone shopping. I, of course asked if she’d bought me anything.. hey I was 11 and very self involved.
But what my dad did was just what was needed to snap her back to herself. She had been so embarrassed sitting in the hospital in her night clothes with so many people around that I guess she vowed to take her life back and do something other than sitting and crocheting all the time.
And she did…. a week later she went to the personnel office in the bank she had worked for before I was born, applied for a job as a bookkeeper and was hired on the spot.
But there was a lot more to my mother than that episode above… the fact that she had the spirit in her to get herself back on track, I find myself calling on that spirit at times too.
She was a kook in her younger years and I’ve got the photo album that proves it.
The first page says ‘taken during the year 1926’.. most of the photos are of mom and her friends on Martha’s Vineyard…there are a few from NJ as well. I love how she wrote in white ink on the black pages…and wow, what typical 1926 sayings she wrote. My mother it seems was turning into a flapper… I love it.
For instance, the picture on the lower left says ‘The Oak Bluffs Sheik “oh daddy” “He’s a hound with the ladies.” I’m 80% sure I know who that hound was but I’m not telling 🙂
It would have been fun to have known my mother when she was that age, to have hung out with her and her friends on the Vineyard, to be in on their inside jokes and what really went on in with the sheik of Oak Bluffs ! Okay, maybe not. Does one really want to know THAT much about their parents, some things are better left unknown 🙂
Yes indeed, my mother was one of my favorite people to spend time with. Some nights when my dad was working the night shift my mom and I would have our favorite supper and speak our ‘silly language’, which was to put ‘S’ in front of every word… not as easy as you think and certainly made for gales of laughter from both of us.
I feel that maybe I shouldn’t have spent so much time on the above story about her bout with, depression, and I was tempted to go back and delete it…but no, it goes to show that she was a strong woman, who lost herself for awhile and then found and reinvented herself…and I’m proud of her for that and like to think that I got some of that fortitude or spunk from her… I definitely got my quirkiness from her and I thank her for that.
Happy birthday mom… ❤