Monthly Archives: September 2013

Sock Puppet

Uncle Bob and I don’t have many things in common; sure, we like digging around in the garden and we like spending time on The Farm, but we are different in our approach to life.  Uncle Bob is “laid back” … Continue reading

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A Few More Sacred Flowers

Time is running out for beautiful flowers here in New England. A different beauty will replace this. Enjoy this beautiful day.

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Twerk My Fire

A note from the blog “hostess:” Today’s blog is a “guest post” by Reggie Black.  Reggie, after conducting extensive genealogical research, discovered he’s descended from the Livingstone clan.  I suggested he hyphenate; he flatly refused. Even without a hyphen, Reggie … Continue reading

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Hamburger Bel Air

I’m glad I didn’t have to stage a hunger strike to get some carpentry work done at my condominium. I wonder if that’s grass-fed beef?

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The Ancient Rule of Neighborliness

The other day, my brother and I were having an e-mail dialogue about enduring local communities.  We discuss this all the time.  One of the e-mails he sent me ended with the following quote by Wendell Berry about the resurrection … Continue reading

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It’s Comical

Yesterday, I stopped by Uncle Bob’s to tell him about a fallen tree on the road to The Farm.  The wind blew the tree down and it was laying directly across the road.  Apparently I was the THIRD person to … Continue reading

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My father takes notes. He writes them on the back of recycled envelopes. This one was from last week. Here we go, Patriots, here we go!

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A Giant Mess

I went to an estate sale at home last weekend.  It was on a familiar family street, one I’d walked down a thousand times.  Old sofas and Tee Vees lined the driveway and were spilling out of the porch.  The … Continue reading

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Biscuit Lane

I pass this sign every day on my way to and from work. I’ve wondered about Love Lane before; I’ve explored the romantic road in the Jeep, but as far as I could tell there was nothing particularly passionate about … Continue reading

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Sealing it Up

When we were very little and our house on Woodland Avenue was newly built, our driveway was dirt.  In those days, people built their houses little by little.  Paving the driveway was a luxury that would come in time. In … Continue reading

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