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“We can survive this …”
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Election Day is a mix of sweet and bitter – The Unbearable Promise of Being.
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What I really wanted to be when I grew up was a famous novelist – at least as famous as Jules Verne, and maybe even as good. Now I’m resigned to having once visited an event, probably as a seven- or eight-year-old, that was also visited by Kurt Vonnegut Jr., who was then within a…
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Walking in the woods reminds me of how I live my life.
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Barely two weeks after the end of our major political parties’ conventions of posturing and pontificating, and about a dozen weeks until the vote to pick our next president, it might be worth remembering that 239 years ago, thousands of regular folk – including my 4th-great-grandfather Dependence Sturtevant – were actively involved in a North…
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In late May 2016 in Milford, Conn., half a dozen regular folks – volunteers, good Samaritans – pulled to the side of what locals call the Route 15 Connector, which links Interstate 95 to Route 15 (from Milford east, called the Wilbur Cross Parkway – The Merritt to the west), and among them they managed…
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With one life, do we really want to be remembered for breaking into a funeral procession?
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“Once at least in the life of every human,” MFK Fisher writes in Serve it Forth, “whether he be brute or trembling daffodil, comes a moment of complete gastronomic satisfaction.” You can find mine on Page 344 of the Tenth Edition of Fannie Farmer: “Maine Blueberry Pudding.”
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“Then you knew where you were.” The passing of #MichaelHerr.
WORDS of WAR 