Back in the late 1970s, my parents purchased an old farmhouse that was built in 1880 in a town called South Kortright, NY. The house sat on seven acres of a beautiful valley in the middle of the Catskill Mountains.
The farmhouse was in disrepair when they purchased it, but over the years they fixed it up into a very comfortable weekend and summer retreat from the urban bustle of the New York City area, where we lived. The trip took three and one-half to four hours every Friday night, but my sister and I didn’t mind it at all.
One night, after we arrived at approximately nine at night, my sister and I sat at the kitchen table eating sandwiches for dinner while my parents had cocktails in the front living room.