Last week, I spun a yarn about my journey from my office in Camden, up Atlantic Highway to my home, and the businesses I have interacted with along the way. As I only work at the Camden office every other Saturday, last Saturday morning, I took a.
Saturday was moving up day in the henyard. The two-month old pullets, the young hens that had been confined to a small house and yard since leaving their brooder, were joining the old girls in the main yard. Since I had nothing better to do, I sat.
LINCOLNVILLE In the summertime, people drive by rural, roadside farm stands like they’re a dime a dozen. But, there is such art and beauty in a local hutch at the end of a dirt driveway. For many, a farm stand is a way for home gardeners, farmers,.
It’s March, the season of mud and discontent. The season when islanders, according to the story I was told half a century ago, got downright cranky, picked up their phones and started spreading dubious stories about the newcomer from away, usually.
Nearly every evening, after chores were done, young Arno Knight went down to the Corner. What was the attraction? His buddies, perhaps a cup or two of hard cider, and a place to hang out. The year? Anytime during the 1870s when Arno was single and.