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Gristmill: Tour No More

I was limited to 20-minute segments of highlights over a small laptop screen, but even that couldn’t diminish the pleasures of the Tour de France.

Sep 24, 2020
The Mast-Head: Mailboxes Missed

There was a fair bit more activity in front of the Star office when the Methodist Lane United States Postal Service mailboxes were inaccessible during work on the railroad trestles nearby.

Sep 17, 2020
The Shipwreck Rose: The Dark End of the Street

I’ve just come from chasing my son as he set off double-quick for his first day in Mr. Tupper’s fifth-grade class at the John M. Marshall Elementary School.

Sep 17, 2020
Gristmill: Home Alone

What happens when your children go back to school after six months of family time at home?

Sep 17, 2020
Relay: One Lucky Lady

If I could only get to Abraham’s Path and make it across the railroad tracks without the tire rim shattering, I would be okay.

Sep 17, 2020
The Mast-Head: Unnerving Mail Mysteries

First cellphone service, next the U.S. mail. It’s no wonder Americans’ trust in public institutions is not stronger.

Sep 10, 2020
The Shipwreck Rose: Bad Words

Some people have “sensitivities” to particular sounds or to the fabric content of sweaters. I myself have a pretentious sensitivity to trendy words.

Sep 10, 2020
Gristmill: Slumberland

It took a global pandemic lockdown for me to finally appreciate my father’s lifelong predilection for napping.

Sep 10, 2020
The Mast-Head: Contact Is Curative

Something I noticed only recently about the pandemic is that I felt significantly more animated after talking with a friend or even making a work call.

Sep 3, 2020
The Shipwreck Rose: Low-Class Fish

The problem with buying good, fat Maine lobsters is that no one in my household will eat them with me.

Sep 3, 2020
Gristmill: It’s Not Easy

Dominic Smith, the good-guy left fielder, first baseman, and designated hitter for the Mets, broke down when discussing the implications of the police shooting of Jacob Blake.

Sep 3, 2020
The Mast-Head: False Sense of Security

Nearly every morning since the middle of March, I get up, make coffee, feed the dogs, and look up the previous day’s coronavirus numbers.

Aug 27, 2020