The tree I snagged from Don French last weekend is up, visible from the road through the window of what once was the barn loft. St. Nicholas Day has passed chocolate in the shoes, not one child stolen away by Krampus, the monster who accompanies.
I have written previously about the age-old divide in this little town. In early days it was Ducktrap against Canaan those deeded land on the coast due to merit or connections, versus the plucky settlers inland. In living memory, this became The.