I smiled as I began reading, wondering what amusing foibles of modern life Jessie and her chickens would reveal to me this week… Wait a minute. This can’t mean….? Can it??
Lately, I’ve been asking myself a question: When is it time for a small-town humor columnist to call it quits? I’ve landed on the answer: It’s now.
A year ago, I wrote about the new-to-me technique of “no-dig” gardening. While seeking advice online using search terms like “how to not suck at growing vegetables,” I had landed on a bunch of YouTube channels promoting this method.
Lately I keep losing things, only to have them show up in places I’ve already looked. I did some online research and now know what is happening: we have a hobgoblin in the house. What a relief.
I recently read an article making fun of older people for stubbornly resisting new technology. I took offense.
MUHS claimed 2nd place as a team not far behind perennial champion Mount Anthony; Vergennes senior Peyton Lavoie tapped as “Outstanding Wrestler” at the event.
Finally, we’re having a proper Vermont winter. In contrast, two Februarys ago I was walking on bare trails in the woods. A year ago, Mark and I were playing pickleball outside almost every weekend.
In the winter, a typical Saturday night at our house means watching TV after dinner, dozing off for a few minutes now and then. If we’re feeling wild, we might stay up late, sometimes past 9:30. But this weekend I have something even crazier in mind: goi … (read more)
In the winter, when I have a lot of time on my hands, I like to snoop in strangers’ homes. Vicariously, I mean.
At the end of “A Christmas Carol,” Ebenezer Scrooge wakes up, runs to the window and shouts to a boy below, “What’s to-day?”
You know those annoying people who manage to bake thousands of cookies over the holidays with seemingly little effort? This year, a dream came true for me: I became one of those annoying people.
Every year I take a photo of our decorated Christmas tree. I’m convinced the image will someday spark fond memories of that holiday season. I now have decades’ worth of Christmas tree photos I can’t tell apart.
I had a revelation this week: I’ve been doing Christmas decorating all wrong.
I’ve enjoyed the spells of pleasant, warm weather we’ve been having lately. But you know who’s enjoyed them more? The ticks.
Mark, bless his heart, can’t even diagram a sentence. (I know, how embarrassing.) So it’s not easy to admit that, in spite of all my acquired knowledge, he’s the smart one.
