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by Sandra Hutchinson
Periodically, my longtime friend Miss E and I (friends since seventh grade at Robert E. Bell Middle School) get together, stay a night or two at a nice inn, and if available, pair it with a spa visit. We’ve had wonderful stays at the Inns at Aurora (New York’s Finger Lakes region), the Woodstock Inn (Vt.), the Red Lion Inn (Stockbridge, Mass.), and as of this week, the Beekman Arms, in Rhinebeck, NY.
by Sandra Hutchinson
Some years ago, I found a recipe for this cocktail on the Internet and I’ve been making it every year on Christmas Eve and/or Christmas Day. The one copy of the recipe that I printed out attributes the recipe to Cheyanne Holzworth-Bany. So, Cheyanne, wherever you are — Merry Christmas and thank you!
Continue readingby Sandra Hutchinson
Every few years I make it a point to visit the Shelburne Museum, in Shelburne, Vermont. Spread over 45 acres on the eastern side of Lake Champlain, several miles south of Burlington, the museum primarily houses the eclectic collection of its founder, Electra Havemeyer Webb (1888-1960). The property is close to Shelburne Farms, the estate and large farm developed by the Webb family.
by Sandra Hutchinson
In the spring of 1974, a young 27-year-old director named Steven Spielberg began filming Jaws on the Massachusetts island of Martha’s Vineyard. Universal Studios had recently bought film rights to Peter Benchley’s not-yet-released thriller about a killer great white shark that terrorizes the fictional New England Amity Island.
Visiting the Anne Frank House museum in Amsterdam is a profoundly moving experience. I first went there as a 19-year-old college student backpacking around Europe. Of course I had read the Diary of Anne Frank as a youngster, when I was probably around the same age as Anne (13) when she began writing her diary. Naturally, I was both captivated by her writing and horrified by what happened to her and her family.
We made a four-day visit to Amsterdam in late May, prompted by my snagging two tickets to the once-in-a-lifetime Vermeer exhibit at the Rijksmuseum. (See my post about the exhibit here.)
by Sandra Hutchinson
I’ve long been a fan of the The Garden Conservancy’s Open Days program, which arranges for public visits to some of our country’s most inspired and beautiful private gardens. There are usually a number of great options in New York’s Hudson Valley each spring and summer, as well as in neighboring northwest Connecticut.
Earlier this summer, through the Open Days program, I visited a stunning property near Millbrook, NY, in Dutchess County, that has been transformed by Christopher Spitzmiller and Anthony Bellomo. Called Clove Brook Farm, the current 5.5 acre property was originally part of a 200 acre working farm. The name comes from the stream that runs along the edge of the property, called Clove Brook.
by Sandra Hutchinson
When Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum announced an exhibit of 28 of Dutch artist Johannes Vermeer’s paintings to open in February of this year, the tickets quickly sold out. International newspapers proclaimed this the “exhibit of a lifetime.” Indeed, the headline of the preview in The Guardian was “One of the most thrilling exhibits ever conceived.”
Continue readingby Sandra Hutchinson
We recently had a rare opportunity to visit the Upperville, Virginia home of Paul Mellon (1907-1999) and Rachel “Bunny” Lambert Mellon (1910-2014), two of the most prominent American art collectors and philanthropists of the 20th century. The property, called Little Oak Spring, is part of what was the much larger Rokeby Farm, where Paul Mellon raised many famous thoroughbreds, including Sea Hero, who won the 1993 Kentucky Derby.
by Sandra Hutchinson
Note: this piece was originally written when my two now-adult sons were youngsters.
What I remember most about Mother’s Day as I was growing up, are the various flowers and plants I would give my mom as gifts. I don’t know whether this was something I learned from my teachers, my Girl Scout leaders or my father, who was an avid gardener. What I do know is that May meant lilacs and lilies of the valley and apple blossoms, all of which I would collect and arrange in glass jars with ribbons tied around their necks, to be given to my mother on that Sunday in May.
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