Our cat Buster loves meat. Raw meat. We adopted him because he was cute and cuddly, and because my husband fell in love with him.
I rarely play the piano anymore, but there are times it brings me home.
“Many veterans no longer refer to it as PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder),” Bob Almeter points out. “They call it Post Traumatic Stress (PTS). It’s not a disorder. It’s part of who I am.”
I have bungled many situations in my life. Some stand out above others.
At the southwest corner of the Bristol Green, facing West Street and adjacent to the playground, you’ll find the Bristol Peace Garden.
Grandpa was a small, serious man who stood straight and took pride in having become a modern American.
Our neighbors’ challenges can be invisible. Like the folks who show up at Have-a-Heart Food Shelf each month.
My husband and I step out for a brisk winter stroll and immediately get drawn into a snowball fight — five energetic kids against three adults, but we three are up to the challenge.
Some years ago a gentleman named Jim could be spotted around Addison County with a young capuchin monkey named Cassie perched on his shoulder.
Placing merger decisions in the hands of a 13-member board across nine schools and eight towns is not in the best interest of students or taxpayers.
Let’s imagine a house catches on fire one dry summer day, and fortunately, someone gets hold of the fire department.
Starksboro’s unanimous decision was based on what is seen as best for Starksboro’s children, including those with special needs. I am moved by the unity of the town on this issue.
The allure of bridges dates back to my childhood. In 1959 construction began on the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge connecting Staten Island to Brooklyn.
It takes both good luck and good care to survive cancer. After my breast cancer diagnosis in 1999 I had both.
For the past two years, grocery shopping has become my weekly event. During the expanded time between these excursions, I ponder the joys of childhood shopping trips.
