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The British are coming! (February 21, 2008) Great news for Fly Creek and the surrounds! Barbara and Michael Thrower, English friends who haven't visited Fly Creek in the present millennium, are coming over in early spring.
They read our souls (February 14, 2008) You know I'm crazy about dogs. I don't have the passion of my bride (who'll run through heavy traffic to pat a dog on the opposite sidewalk), but I do love them truly, deeply. And this, mind you, in spite of living most of my life without one of my own.
Parkinson's progress (February 07, 2008) Time, I think, to report on how Parkinson's disease and I are doing in our joint venture.
Answering the command to grow (January 31, 2008) Not a great many miles from here, an old friend has finished a project of love. He's built himself a cabin deep in the woods. Back in November he asked me to drive over and see it. Of course I went.
More ratting on Larry (January 24, 2008) My last week's column ended in mid-confession. I was admitting to a practical joke of 50 years ago that compromised the values of the monk I then was. I'll press on now with my confession, but I'd rather just run off and hide in a dark corner.
Ratting on Larry, part one (January 17, 2008) The talk turned to rats. That sort of thing can happen when guys go out to breakfast together. If wives had been with us, they'd have blown the whistle on the topic at once.
Salvaging scraps of the past (January 11, 2008) Time has picked up speed as I've aged. That should be no surprise to me since a sense of time's passage depends on the number of years one has lived.
An old dog's forgiveness (January 03, 2008) More than once, friends, I've bragged to you about a highpoint of my past life: my hike with my friend Michael Thrower along England's South Downs Way.
Call her "M'Lady," please (December 027, 2007) I batted one out of the park this Christmas. One of my gifts to my bride caught her totally by surprise.
What was that word again? (December 20, 2007) It happened just as I predicted. At the Rotary Christmas party, I spotted Dr. Dennis Savoie across a crowded room. He was grinning, and I knew for sure that I was going to get ribbed for misspelling his name here two weeks ago.
A sudden turn in the road (December 13, 2007) I promise that I won't belabor you with this, week after week. But my Anne's reaction, almost at once, was, "You have to write about what's happening. Lots out there face it, either in themselves or in loved ones. You can help."
Tending to animal travels (December 06, 2007) Last Friday I brought home the rent-a-ram. I'd told the three ewes that I was fetching their last year's guest and that some high times were ahead for them. They were too proper to giggle.
That's what did it, Dennis (November 29, 2007) Say, here's a suggestion. Why don't you shift a couple of columns to the left and re-read some of today's editorial? It's better if you don't witness what's about to happen here. I'm going to grovel for a paragraph or so, and that's an embarrassing thing for an aging man to do. (The getting down isn't the hard part; it's the getting back up.)
Gathering up fragments (November 23, 2007) Here are some odds and ends I've been meaning to share with you. Not much links them except my hope that you'll find them interesting. But you're a forgiving lot and, after all, it is a busy holiday week.
Scrapple and eau de skunk (November 15, 2007) I believe I've converted the Fly Creek minister. No, Tom hasn't renounced United Methodism, but he's now also a devotee of breakfast scrapple. I think I have enriched his life.
The joke's on us (November 08, 2007) "Man thinks and God laughs." That Yiddish saying has an immediate ring of truth. I'm sure God's is sympathetic laughter. He sees us humans strain and sweat as we puzzle over life's biggest and ultimately unanswerable questions.
Eating close to home (November 01, 2007) Last week the roosters and I took a ride to Edmeston. They were a raucous lot as we left Fly Creek, but far more subdued when I brought them home to their new digs, our freezer.
Good friends to the rescue (October 25, 2007) Years of practice have made me good at afternoon naps. Flat on my back on the bed, a blanket pulled to my chin, and I'm gone for an hour. But last Saturday, as sleep closed in, I was shocked bolt upright: There was a crash, a dozen thumps, a cry of pain. I leaped up, grabbed my glasses, scuffed into shoes.
'Happy with their own kind' (October 18, 2007) I told you last week about the racism that we kids inhaled with the air of my hometown, Annapolis, Maryland. The thousands of African Americans there, though living with us, had to live their lives separate from us.
Knowing their place (October 11, 2007) An August Sunday in 1942, and the air in St. Mary's Church was hot, thick with Maryland humidity. Mass was about to begin. The organist was playing a soft prelude, and people had settled into quiet.
We have met the enemy ... (October 04, 2007) A series of very foggy fall mornings last week had the Fly Creek General Store coffee drinkers grumbling.
Ten years down the road (September 27, 2007) Hard to grasp, friends, but it's 10 years since Anne and I were married. The ceremony took place in our back field. The September weather was as perfect that day as it's been recently, but with a bit more fall coolness in the air and the first touches of red in the sumac along the tree line.
Well, he asked for it! (September 20, 2007) (Jim's away, gathering material, and so we're reprinting a prize-winning columns from a few years back.)
Overseeing the other animals (September 13, 2007) My Rotarian wife will deny me bed and board if I don't remind you of an upcoming big event: the Rotary-sponsored AppleFest, scheduled for Sept. 22 and 23 at the Fly Creek Cider Mill. Lots of fun, good food, toe-tapping music, and engaging games for the kids. All proceeds, of course, go to local good works: emergency squads, the Scouts, libraries, etc.
Mail from across the border (September 06, 2007) I don't get a whole lot of fan letters for my book, but last year a whole stack of them arrived - and all from Canadian readers. Each writer had taken time to pen a kind of thankyou note for "From Fly Creek," and each named parts of the book especially enjoyed.
For now, an urbanized Fly Creek (August 30, 2007) I have not invented a better mousetrap, and yet the world is beating a path to my door. Or so it seems lately. A highway detour is diverting north- and southbound traffic off County Route 26 and through what we denizens like to call "South Fly Creek." The cause is a culvert near collapse under the county road, just south of the Town of Otsego Hall.
An earlier visitor to Wick (August 23, 2007) Our paths first crossed in my early boyhood. He'd already been dead 50 years, but the enthralling voice lived on in "Treasure Island" and "Kidnapped" and "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde." It was his Jim Hawkins that really hooked me. Here was a boy with my first name, about my age, trapped in a world of mayhem and homicidal pirates.
Welcome word from Calvin (August 16, 2007) True to his word, nine-year-old Calvin Van Dorn, our guest during Induction Weekend, sent an email to Blue and all us other animals at Stone Mill Acres. The cheery note came from his dad's email address; but it opened, "Hi, this is Calvin" and went on to thank Anne and me for the great time he had here.
Guests and engaging animals (August 9, 2007) I told you last week about the research professor who was one of our Induction Weekend renters. He's the one who was pushed past scientific objectivity when Owen the cat got him convinced that a ghoul was trying to break through the attic door and into his bedroom.
Our briefly being a B&B (August 2, 2007) It was poignant. Anne and I emptied the last of our personal effects from bedroom closets and bureaus, carried boxes downstairs and out the back door. We loaded them onto the cart behind the garden tractor, I climbed on, fired up the motor, and we ground slowly away from our home, Anne walking alongside to keep a balancing hand on the load.
Hurray for the National Pastime! (July 26, 2007) This is a dangerous thing to admit around here, but I'm not much of a baseball fan. I get revved up each year around Series time, and of course I'm always infected by the excitement of Induction Weekend.
Follow the river to its source (July 19, 2007) I wish you could have known him. Your life would have been enriched. And you'd probably have been in a quiet crowd some weeks ago. It filled an old clapboard church up in the Unadilla hills to celebrate his life.
Match-making and outdoor showers (July 12, 2007) Writing this column to you each week has brought a lot of interesting contacts. Just now, for instance, I'm serving an Albany reader as a go-between for pet housing.
An eviction notice to ourselves (July 5, 2007) It's getting very close. Anne and I have only a few weeks more before we must clutch a few belongings and leave our home. We're being evicted. By ourselves.
But what was to be gained? (June 28, 2007) It was pretty heavy going here last week, what with my listing all those grisly details about an 1838 murder. I hope it didn't put you off your feed.
Who did it, and why? (June 21, 2007) Now, about that murder. My Anne's great-great-grandfather John Millie was beaten to death with a poker. It happened after close of business in a Newcastle bank, and the courts found that another bank employee had killed him.
A toast to Malcolms, old and young(June 14, 2007) Great Britain is a narrow island; nowhere on it are you more than a hundred and fifty miles from the sea.
Now, I'll push and you pull... (June 07, 2007) First, a Happy Anniversary wish: This month, it's ten years since Tom Bouton reopened the Fly Creek General Store. That day he gave the hamlet back its heart. And since then, Tom's store's had a part in inspiring a whole set of new businesses.
Keeping on track coming home (May 31, 2007) Well, what a trip that was! After mobilizing Fly Creek neighbors to tend the animals, Anne and I flew out of JFK Airport on April 25. On May 20 at midnight I staggered back into our house; Anne finally got home on May 24. And what, you ask, separated us?
Finding our way on shifting ground(May 24, 2007) When you read this, friends, Anne and I will be back home again after a month away. It's the longest time I've been absent from Fly Creek since I settled here fifteen years ago. Our trip, which I'll describe to you anon, has been great; but I know we'll both be returning with relief and gratitude to our home in this beautiful place.
Only now, only here, only this(May 17, 2007) For all the years I've written this column, I've been a hobby farmer. Just as well, since it's meant a long parade of creatures great and small have marched across this page. You've read about sheep, of course, and pigs.
Fathers and sons and fathers...(May 10, 2007) Tom Bouton (behind General Store register): "So, what's going on at your place?" Me (standing at counter): Well, Arrie and I have been sitting in the shade, watching sheep bounce off the new electric fence."
A Cowboy serenade s(May 03, 2007) Last week I told you about misadventures in my first job, as an Annapolis movie usher. Well, my college friend Dave Rogers had been a teen-aged usher, too, in a cavernous theater in West Philadelphia.
My early fame, a name in lights(April 26, 2007) More, if you don't mind, about my short career as movie usher. This column ought to leave you convinced that, whatever I've become, I was once a young boy of sterling innocence. Though maybe just dumb.
Watching life slide by (April 19, 2007) I'm just back from South Carolina and my late first wife's mother's funeral. Though she was 91, a couple of hundred people came to Winnie's calling hours, testimony to the love she'd won to herself down there.
You might hyperventilate... (April 12, 2007) When Gary Foster opened his front door on the day of his Grand Opening last week, the first person in was a woman of considerable years. "I am very glad to see Jonesie's Hardware open again," she said.
Do you know this man? (April 05, 2007) I hope the photo on this page of the black-haired dude didn't shock you. I'll tell you, it gave me a jolt. The development office at my old college found it in some archive and sent it along to haunt me.
The run-down on the Four Corners(March 29, 2007) With my office re-established in the front corner of the Fly Creek General Store, I'm getting a raft of new stories from customers.
Observing private lives(March 22, 2007) A great wrong has been righted in the Fly Creek General Store, and I know you'll rejoice with me over it.
You think you had it bad? (March 15, 2007) Congratulations, survivors! A month has passed since the Valentine's Day blizzard, when we got waffled with 40 inches of white.
The word means gift(March 08, 2007) Too many mimosas, that's what did it. Last week Anne and I battled cabin fever by inviting a dozen friends in for a brunch. The food was great. Anne made strata, vegetable torte, and salmon mousse;
Klieg lights in Fly Creek(March 01, 2007) Great excitement in front of the Fly Creek General Store last month. I can't remember such a buzz there since they excavated the old gas tanks.
Which way to face?(February 22, 2007) Three weeks ago this column was called, "No Way to Run a Non-Profit." It dealt with inexcusable treatment of employees at the local Cornell Cooperative Extension Agency. Since then, many have told me of their own outrage over the peremptory firings.
Observing the circle of life(February 15, 2007) You already know about Sophie the sheep's prolonged pregnancy and the awkward circumstances that brought it about. When you were reading about them last week, Sophie was still moping about the sheep shed and snowy yard, looking woebegone but resigned.
In the best of families (February 08, 2007) At last count, four black lambs were bouncing around in our sheep shed. They vault over one another's backs, dash out into the snow and back again, then drop onto their elbows to pound away at their mothers' udders.
No way to run a non-profit(February 01, 2007) Sometimes I have a troubling dream. I'm back at the big table in my college's administrative conference room. I'm sitting there with the president and the other vice presidents, wrestling with the issues that plague a big institution. The worst was always "not enough money, too many demands."
Lee looks back on joyriding (January 25, 2007) You know my strong allegiance to the Fly Creek General Store. I am in there more times in each week than there are days. I even keep buying big cups of the store's Harvard Blend coffee though it hasn't made me a bit brighter.
Where the wild things are(January 18, 2007) When we drove around the Otsego hills in my pickup, my old buddy Arrie Hecox most often sat in silence, his face set in his all-purpose scowl. But he was having a good time. Arrie loved to ride along, just looking. He saw each vista not just as it is, but as he'd known it across four score years.
Fate takes charge, order triumphs (January 11, 2007) I'm fighting off a vile bug, friends, and aren't fit to make sensible talk with you. So I've reached back eight years to a column that always makes me laugh. I hope it does so for you, too. Oh, and don't worry.
E.B. White, pure gold(January 04, 2007) The nation's gold reserve, over nine million pounds, is secured in Fort Knox, Ky., behind walls of granite, concrete and hardened steel. The gold is shaped as 28-pound gold bars, but don't expect to view them.
A year of happy endings (December 28, 2006) Lord knows, the world didn't fare very well during the year now ending. There was more than the usual quota of droughts, quakes, and starvation. Our leaders' Iraq adventure sinks deeper into quicksand.
He left, loving the world (December 21, 2006) You may have first seen him in the film "Joe," playing a blue-collar bigot seething with rage and frustration. Surely you saw him in "Young Frankenstein," portraying a monster that evoked our horror, sympathy, and somehow, our affection, all at once.
Christmas behind bars(December 14, 2006) You may have first seen him in the film "Joe," playing a blue-collar bigot seething with rage and frustration. Surely you saw him in "Young Frankenstein," portraying a monster that evoked our horror, sympathy, and somehow, our affection, all at once. (That scene of monster and Gene Wilder, tap dancing to "Puttin’ on the Ritz," can make me laugh just by thought of it.)
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder?" (December 07, 2006) You bet, and a lot more. Much of what we see takes origin right inside us. At any given moment, we grasp what we see in light of all we are, right then. That moment's emotions shape what we see; whence the love/ beauty link.
Dogward-ho! (November 02, 2006) Time, friends, for the fall animal update. First, as to hens, whose production dropped off last month to one egg a day. That meant, in feed bills, about 40 cents an egg. Not good.
Gift of Fifth Year Anniversaray (October 26, 2006) I got a gift on this year's fifth anniversary of 9/11, an email so profound that I have kept in on my laptop, have been rereading it ever since. Now I've decided that I should share the gift with you; it's too valuable to keep to myself. Its author said it would be all right.
Doubt Laid to Rest (October 19, 2006) If there's any lingering doubt about Fly Creek fire service, it ought to be laid to rest. Forty volunteers have stepped forward to create the new Fly Creek Fire Company.
To promote the general welfare (October 12, 2006) Last week probably saw Fly Creek's biggest civic turnout since the hamlet's 1989 bicentennial. This time, however, the cause wasn't celebration. The cause was a volatile mix of confusion, anger, and fear.
From Fly Creek: Half in love with death ... (October 05, 2006) The death happened over a half century ago, but it haunts me still: A friend who never lived beyond his boyhood, who died by his own hand. Thoughts of him have been especially strong since that 50th high school reunion I told you about.
A dog by any other name... (September 28, 2006) About Blue's moniker: Some might say that so classy a dog as ours, one that was first identified as (mostly) an Australian Blue Heeler, and more lately as (mostly) a Louisiana Catahoula Spotted Leopard Dog, deserves a high-toned name. "Blue," those same some would say, is too trite.
Blue gets a charge (September 21, 2006) Our dog Blue, whose education continues apace, learned about something new last week. It's left a strong impression.
Lady Ostapeck: Picture perfect (September 14, 2006) First, of course, a brief word about cows: Rest easy! The lost calf was found in good health, and now it is happily back with its mother. All is well.
`Finlandia,' just over the hills (September 07, 2006) First, some good news. Fly Creek's renegade heifers are all back in their home pasture. Well, almost all. After two weeks of frustrating tries to corral them, the heifers' escapade ended abruptly.
When cows go bad... (August 31, 2006) I don't know where they'll be when you read this column, but right now a gang of renegade heifers is at large in Fly Creek. For over a week they've been roving around a couple of square miles.
Deliberate simplicity (August 24, 2006) H. L. Mencken, one of journalism's great satirists, delighted in spotting some human folly and blasting it with a broadside. Once he was challenged by a fellow writer for never going beyond skewering problems to offering solutions.
Before the point of no return (August 17, 2006) Back in Annapolis 25 years ago, I lived in an all-electric sub-division. Even then, the monthly bills seemed astronomical. My neighbor Bart once grieved to me about the cost. He shook his head slowly and said, "The only way more extravagant to heat your house than by electricity is to set fire to it."
Still recovering from `What if's' (August 10, 2006) I could be in jail, awaiting arraignment. Or I could be undergoing lots of tests to see if, for everyone's safety, I should be locked up in that place I hinted at last week - the one with beige day rooms and metal grates on the windows.
Gotta sneeze? Let `er rip! (August 03, 2006) I'm back home from Lake George's Silver Bay, after the week-long Yearly Meeting of New York State's Religious Society of Friends-the Quakers. About six hundred of us were there.
Teaching Blue not to floss (July 27, 2006) Last week I broke the news that Blue, our purported Australian blue heeler, is no such thing. Rather, he's a son of the Deep South, a Louisiana Catahoula spotted leopard dog.
A bark with a southern drawl (July 20, 2006) It turns out that we've been misrepresenting our dog to the general public - and to ourselves. When we got Blue from the SPCA, we were told he was mostly an Australian shepherd; the spotted coat and the mismatched eyes were typical of that breed.
Lives of willful love (July 13, 2006) Last week, after praising David McGown for his hard work during the floods, I also wanted to thank Kimberly MacLeod, who was such help in moving those goats.
`Git along, little doggies' (July 06, 2006) "Livestock drive" is not a current term around here. You probably associate it more with the Old West, with vast herds of cattle, sheep, or horses driven across arid plains.
Arrie's kind of guy (June 29, 2006) Still another leap forward in Fly Creek! The progress out here is almost dizzying. You already know that our business community has expanded to include the Harmony House Cafe, a place with food that draws people like pilgrims to a shrine.
Keeping up with the dog (June 23, 2006) First, apologies to Bradon Pullyblank for my getting his age wrong in last week's column. Though he's big and bright enough for anyone to think he's five, in fact he's four.
Well and truly wed... (June 15, 2006) Last week, during the countdown to the Saturday wedding, Anne and I sat white-knuckled, watching reports on the weather. Everything for the tent reception was ready, steady, and under control - except for that big, loopy nor'easter.
A correction, plus animal news (June 08, 2006) First, the correction: Last week I mentioned that, as I climbed off the Empire State Carousel, a good friend was climbing on.
Stay seated till this ride has stopped (June 01, 2006) A good crowd at The Farmers' Museum over last weekend: parents, grandparents, kids, sisters, cousins, aunts-all of them come for the carousel's dedication, most of them hoping for a ride.
Grit between my teeth (May 25, 2006) You know the scene. The hero has broken free of his bonds. He's run out of the mouth of the mine just as the dynamite charge explodes. The whole shaft collapses behind him.
Cross it off the list! (May 18, 2006) Men my age move on through their days with an eye on themselves. We know that every life finally turns into a rear-guard action, with steadily more skirmishes against the inevitable.
Is he dancing in that field? (May 11, 2006) If, in recent days, you've driven across the Oaks Creek bridge from Bissell Road and started the climb up Allison Road, you may have been puzzled by a scene in our front field.
It feels like somebody's home (May 04, 2006) Saturday morning, as I was pumping money into my truck tank, I saw the Pierros round the corner in front of Fly Creek's Harmony House Cafe. They both waved and Kay shouted, "We just had a great breakfast!" Well, Anne and I can second that judgment.
`Bloggin' before blogs were cool...' (April 27, 2006) There wasn't room last week to tell you about a great moment in my web-surfing. You'll remember that I mentioned wrestling with getting a name for the next-generation ewe in our flock.
The urge to surf brings new friends (April 20, 2006) It's congenital, I guess, and not that uncommon. With me, it started very early. As soon as I had enough control of words to use a dictionary, I started pulling the big volume off the shelf behind my father's easy chair.
Thanks, Fannie and Bert (April 13, 2006) Last week I took you to the movies. Hope you enjoyed the show. You got to see a 1907 presentation, right in our Fly Creek Grange Hall, by the Cook and Harris High Class Moving Picture Company.
`Many imitators, but only one genuine' (April 06, 2006) Hold onto your hats-we're time traveling. It's ninety-nine years ago, September 19, 1907. You're in the lobby of Fly Creek's almost brand-new Grange Hall and have just paid thirty-five cents for a ticket.
Names, plus Lee's boyhood feat (March 30, 2006) I've often mentioned here the two satisfying clubs to which I belong. One is the venerable Mohican Club in Cooperstown, comfortable as old shoes and full of good company.
No more to build on there...' (March 23, 2006) Well, the lambs didn't come in a snowstorm or at night or in a blackout, but they did arrive while Anne was still away and I was alone. On St. Patrick's Day morning I checked on the three ewes, then drove to the Fly Creek General Store for coffee and human company.
Holding sheep fate at bay (March 16, 2006) I hike out to the sheep shed at least three times a day. Blue and I go out in the morning; he waits outside the fence while I give the sheep hay and refill the water tub.
The key that opens everything (March 09, 2006) You'd think that, if I was giving hints, at least I'd get them straight. I didn't and misled a whole readership. At the end of last week's article, I told you that the first letter of a particular four-letter word is in the first third of the alphabet, and the third letter is in the last third.
Aristotle's tool box (cont.) (March 02, 2006) Last week I told you about a very impressive project and how I blundered into a part in it. The project is Cooperstown School District's "Greatness in our Sights" initiative, aimed at moving the system from good to great by 2010.
Aristotle's tool box (February 23, 2006) Cooperstown Central Schools are aiming for greatness, and hurray for them, I say. Directed by a facilitator from the Rensselaerville Institute, a task force is out to move the system to new heights by 2010.
Shear pins and self-education (February 16, 2006) Last week I told you Steve Baker's great story about his grandpa Arrie Hecox-how that grand grump once lost his pants and almost his life in a tractor accident.
Arrie: an apparition from the past (February 09, 2006) A great by-product of having my book drifting around the country is the emails that come from strangers and far-flung friends. Among the latter is Fly Creek's Steve Baker, who emailed from Nevada where he's now settled in, a state trooper and happily married.
Learning the Ages of Man (February 02, 2006) My gosh, it turned out to be true! Since my last week's column, I've talked to ace reporter Casey Campbell, who turns columnist himself each week on this page.
Becoming one of the guys (January 26, 2006) The first time, I'm pretty sure, I sat on a padded board covered in cracked leatherette. The board was set across the arms of my Grandpa Angelo's barber chair.
Progress through barks and growls (January 19, 2006) Maybe someday I'll escape my careless use of "ditz." Reaction to it is pursuing me like a blue jay after a cat. I've just had an email from a retired English professor who says that, "According to The Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang, ed.
At heart, a lifelong contract (January 12, 2006) A couple of weeks ago I wrote about a pre-Christmas wedding so perfect that it seemed like a gift to all of us who witnessed it. I'm grateful for all your comments about the column, and especially for one email that was a surprise and very thought-provoking. It's certainly worth sharing with you.
That Wiles wedding: the real thing (January 05, 2006) I mentioned it a couple of weeks ago and now want to tell you about that splendid wedding just before Christmas. Barring my own, it was about the most enjoyable one I've ever attended. That's not just because I was a participant in it.
Enjoying the elephants' graveyard (December 01, 2005) Last Sunday the sidewalk in front of the Mohican Club was aswarm with members and their families. It was this year's "Greening of Cooperstown" day, and Mohicans did their part, decorating the lamppost out front and trimming our front door and window boxes with greenery.
Take back what belongs to you (December 08, 2005) Tuesday, December 13, is the date of the Fly Creek Fire District election. Voting will be at the firehouse from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. There is every reason to expect a large turnout.
Bright spot in the darkness (December 15, 2005) Cold weather is closing in. That's the best time of year for the Fly Creek General Store. To the pre-dawn crowd, the place is a bright beacon at the Four Corners.
A happy memory, somewhat blurred (December 22, 2005) I'd planned to write this column about a great wedding I attended this week, but fate gave me the elbow. I'm down with the flu or something. What with sneezing, hacking, and reeling around from industrial-strength pills, I can barely tell up from down, much less describe that wedding.
Keeping up appearances (November 23, 2005) That visit back to my old college two weeks ago stirred up truckloads of memories.
Picking up bits as I walk (November 17, 2005) Back in the early 'seventies, I had a pair of polyester bell-bottoms flared enough to almost tent my feet. They were much in style back then, as was their color: a bilious purple that went well, supposedly, with hiking boots and tie-dyed shirts.
Clap loud, and keep on singing (November 03, 2005) It happened once before, but this time was worse. The time before, about ten years ago, I had stopped in a music store on a visit down to Annapolis. The counter girl, maybe eighteen, didn't recognize the title I asked for but said the manager would soon be back.
The Badger's gift: his book (October 27, 2005) Please, read Bob Seaver's "Cooperstown, Otsego and the World." You'll love every word "The Badger" wrote. Only halfway through, I'm already starting to feel bad about getting to the end of it. That's the way a good book should work on you.
`The old order changeth' (October 20, 2005) A decade or so ago I came back from a trip to England with a gift for Arrie Hecox. It was toward the end of the same year in which he and I had made our pilgrimage to Kidron, Ohio.
Cutting back Fly Creek weeds (October 13, 2005) Last Saturday, you'll remember, was miserable: a steady drizzle all day, and more than a touch of October chill in the air. But never mind; it was a great day in Fly Creek.
Cat antics by night (October 06, 2005) The headline above wasn't my first choice. I leaned toward, "Rampant cat terrorizes couple!" But this is the Crier, not some sleazy tabloid. And so I've gone for a milder headline. It captures this column's content, if not quite the tone.
Help shelter the flame (September 29, 2005) I had thought that whales would be the highpoint of our recent nine days in New England, but not so.
Don't sign away your rights (September 22, 2005) A dangerous petition is circulating around the Fly Creek Fire District, proposing something crazy. It asks taxpayers to vote to abolish the Fire District Board. Should we sign it-and sign away citizens' control of our tax-supported fire services?
Looking good in my birthday suit (September 15, 2005) I managed to prolong my mid-August birthday celebration right to the end of the month. The gifts just kept coming. The best of them was a week's visit from Dick and Fran FitzGerald, who live just outside Los Angeles.
Too many roosters, too few hens (September 08, 2005) It's close to Judgment Day at our place. That's not when the good sheep are separated from the wicked goats, as in Scripture.
What the kid was meant to do (September 01, 2005) Well, my book was released last week and was soon being snatched from the shelves, but not by buyers. The publisher grabbed them. North Country Books recalled the whole issue and ordered it destroyed.
A successful first collaboration (August 25, 2005) I'm looking ahead some months. Sometime in the first two weeks of December, I'll have an important anniversary. I didn't note the date it happened-didn't know, you see, how significant it would be.
A stubborn streak (August 18, 2005) I caught it after the fact, a spelling mistake in last week's column. In talking about my last task at loading two pigs onto the pickup, I said that both animals "baulked." Of course, that should have been "balked." Sorry.
A reminder from the animals (August 11, 2005) I woke early this morning to a jolting sound-a choked, explosive squawk. My first thought was that it had come from me.
Plain, unstudied goodness (August 04, 2005) When word came last week, I was away at a conference at Silver Bay, on Lake George. The Y.M.C. A. has a handsome old camp there, and the New York State Quakers had rented it again for their yearly conference.
Exit only, please (July 28, 2005) ity or contempt? In Fly Creek we're torn as to how to react to the Fire District Board's latest affront. As you know from last week's Crier, July 13th was to have been the evening of their monthly meeting.
And good health to you, too (July 21, 2005) I'm feeling fine, and thank you for inquiring. All of you. Last week, on the day when I usually complete my Crier article for the week, I got hit by a summer bug of the twenty-four hour sort.
Willie and Bob and all of us (July 14, 2005) (Crier columnist Jim Atwell is a little under the weather this week, so the Crier is reprinting this column from 2004, which won Best Column at the New York Press Association Better Newspaper contest.)
Finding pleasure in old friends (July 07, 2005) Old friends, they say, are the best friends; and I have a couple of examples for you. The first is a Fly Creek friend who's turned fifty this week. It's Duane Shepard. I've known Duane since about 1980-for half of his life, come to think of it.
No wonder she loves them (June 30, 2005) At the last Fly Creek Historical Society meeting, Scottie Baker entertained us famously. First came her informal talk on restoring vintage wooden canoes, a work Scottie and her late husband Dave began decades ago.
Sea maneuvers for inner kids (June 24, 2005) I was out on the bounding main a couple of weeks ago-well, all right, it was Otsego Lake. David Butler had telephoned to say he was taking "Air Craft" out for another shakedown cruise and asked if I'd like a ride. Would I? You bet!
A vote of no confidence (June 16, 2005) Fly Creekers had hoped the mess in our Fire District Board would get no worse. Bad enough that four members of the Board were clearly hostile toward their fifth member and their treasurer, both elected by landslides in a clear call for reform.
A good dog gone, doggone it (June 09, 2005) I didn't know his name, but until recently Brian Carso, Sr. had a dog that was an asset to Fly Creek. He was a very large Newfoundland, and when Brian drove slowly through the hamlet, the dog was almost always in the car. Or most of him was.
Anne does her work, I do mine (June 02, 2005) You know about the sharp division of outdoor labor at our place. Anne is flora, I'm fauna; I handle the animals and she does vegetables and flowers. Right now my job means tending to the three ewes and five lambs, and the thirteen hens, plus two dozen baby chicks upstairs in the barn under heat lamps and, in the cardboard compartment next to theirs, eight baby turkeys.
Giving way to imagination (May 26, 2005) Only Bob Peaslee caught it. He lives afar, but his heart is still in Otsego County. So Bob reads the Crier on line each week. Sometimes he sends me an encouraging word, and sometimes he spots a mistake. I'm grateful, Bob, for both services.
Half empty now; a room and a life (May 19, 2005) They'd lived together, sisters, for over ninety years. Now one of them is dead. I'm not sure if the other can last.
Frightened by sunlight (May 12, 2005) I'm grieved for the Fly Creek District Fire Board. They're a group badly shaken by rapidly developing events. At their meeting last Wednesday evening, they took some abrupt defensive actions that, at best, were ill-considered.
Lambs and turkey and chicks, oh my (May 05, 2005) The next time you see Anne, congratulate her, please. She earned her spurs as a lamb deliverer two weeks ago. I was away for a three days, down to Maryland for a cousin's funeral.
More good use of arctic hours (April 28, 2005) Last week I told you how Dave Butler of Fly Creek wiled away some of the winter in his garage, building a spectacular air boat. Here come more examples of cold weather-time well spent in the hamlet.
Winter diversion (April 21, 2005) These days we're all like kids sprung from school. We were locked indoors through the months of cold and snow; and now we're outdoors again, giddily raking up leaves and fallen branches, listening to robins trill and geese honk, rejoicing over crocus, greening grass.
Dogs and rocks of ages (April 14, 2005) When Zach, our grand old collie, died in early March, we were still in the grip of winter. Ground was under snow and frozen solid a good twelve inches. There was no choice except cremation. Several weeks later we got back the ashes in a tin box.
Holding on to what we have (April 07, 2005) What makes for a sense of place? I've raised that question on this page before. In thinking through the answer again, I also want to offer a special invitation to Fly Creekers-and Oaks Creekers and Toddsvillians, too.
Seeing life's seamy side (March 31, 2005) A recent speech at the Fly Creek Area Historical Society sent me on a pilgrimage to Milford. The talk was by Jim Loudon, a mainstay of the Leatherstocking Railway Historical Society.
Death of a harmless man (March 24, 2005) A gentleness has left Fly Creek with Ray Higgins' death. And something more is gone, too. With Ray, we've lost one of the bonds that hold us together; we're a little bit diminished as a community.
Runs good, fair shape, original parts (March 17, 2005) ou could call it a snowmobile accident. I was in the Fly Creek Valley Cemetery, putting up "No Snowmobiling" signs, when my feet hit ice and flew out from under me. I count myself lucky. Most people who end up lying in that graveyard don't get up.
Perhaps the part that dreamed is free (March 10, 2005) We'd hoped to have Zach the collie with us at least a couple of years. He was twelve, an old dog, and we couldn't realistically hope for much more time than that.
So, how are your biomarkers? (March 03, 2005) Last week I told you about my trek down to Georgetown University to further my role as a guinea pig. Ten years ago, seven thousand other Americans and I signed up in a study of the non-biological factors that affect our health and aging.
Testing, testing, one, two... (February 24, 2005) You're being addressed by a bona fide research specimen. Last week, I joined legions of humans, unnamed chimps and lab rats that have served science by being, well, guinea pigs.
Beware cross-species collusion (February 17, 2005) Zach, our old collie, ought to have been in big trouble in the last month. And he would have been if Anne and I weren't so besotted with him.
Arrie: an apparition from the past (February 10, 2005) A great by-product of having my book drifting around the country is the emails that come from strangers and far-flung friends. Among the latter is Fly Creek's Steve Baker, who emailed from Nevada where he's now settled in, a state trooper and happily married.
Some recent flights of fancy (February 03, 2005) Not much links the two items in this column except that both involve feathers. (How's that for an opening tease?)
Coming to terms with divorce (January 27, 2005) Both memories date from the 'seventies. The first is of a "New Yorker" cartoon: At a hippie wedding, a laid-back preacher in tie-dyes and beads is beaming at a similarly dressed bride and groom, just as the groom finishes his vows.
Not fit for man or beast (January 20, 2005) Owen, as you know, is a working cat. The first listing on his job description is rodent control; but he's also responsible, at least in his own mind, for patrolling all the out buildings, the near fields, and the woods along the creek.
Excavating, ruminating (January 17, 2005) I've finished mucking out the sheep shed. You probably thought I did that job back when I described it to you in early December. Well, I got it almost finished, or at least more than half way.
Slouching towards publication (January 06, 2005) "And how's your book going, Jim?" That's a question I regularly get from you when we meet in stores and on the streets. Here's a bit more detail:
Previous Jim Atwell Columns
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