The visitor’s guide to Hattonchâtel opens with a discussion of geology established 150 million years…
An Omen for 2021
I hate that “thud.” It always means a bird has mistaken the sliders—despite the raptor and leaf decals—as navigable space. The first thud we heard was a male red-bellied woodpecker only a few days after we had moved in. Then there was a goldfinch. Maybe a couple of...
Covid Virus Diary 24: Christmas Letter 2020
Is everyone still there? How to recount the year’s doings when we have done largely nothing? My favorite word–one of the three Oxford Languages chose for Word Of The Year–is “Blursday.” It perfectly describes the mush that time has become. Last year and...
Corona Virus Diary 19: The Deck Chairs of Summer
The flagstone patio at Nannie’s and Pop’s home in Hingham underlay the most wonderful wrought-iron furniture. The wheeled back legs of the chaises-longues allowed us to shift these monstrously heavy things relatively easily. Thick cushions in a floral fabric provided...
Fifty Years Out Of Emma Willard School
The Saturday of Reunion weekend marked fifty years to that June 14th when Emma Willard’s class of 1969 gathered in the greensward triangulated by the Chapel, the new Library and Weaver Science Building. It was hot and humid—we had worried that early morning...