Musings |
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5/8/2013 1 Comment My Original Face My original face was stone;
Ledge covered in moss. Wisdom, age, beauty, stability, Solid rock.
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4/10/2013 1 Comment A Sense of Place My family landed in Guilford, Connecticut, in the 1600s and never left. Growing up, my grandfather would tell me that it didn't matter how far I traveled, I would always belong to this place and would always love the farm. In my adolescence, I didn't believe him — in fact, I was bound and determined to prove him wrong. At the earliest opportunity, I left New England to attend college in Washington, D.C.
My parents referred to it as the "murder capital of the world." 3/13/2013 2 Comments Sweet Memories of Maple Grove Farm New England winters can be interminable. By the time February rolls around, the skies are gray and the snow is brown. March shows signs of warmer weather as thin sheets of ice stretch across the frozen mud. I understand why some people don’t like this time of year. But growing up, the weeks between Presidents’ Day and St. Patrick’s Day were a sweet, golden amber dream known as maple syrup season.
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