It’s that time of year, when the air starts to taste different, when you can see the far side of winter and off in the distance — yes for sure, that’s definitely spring. Still, don’t be fooled into letting down your guard, we could possibly still have a lot of cold to get through but on sunny days. I too want to go out there and do some gardening, and yes, I too am sick of weeding (although I did get a nifty new longer handled Japanese weeding hoe that I’m very excited about. I still can’t kneel or squat down without pain in my new knee). So, what to do?
I recently attended an event where we were instructed to close our eyes and envision our ideal 2040 and then report to the room what changes in our lives we could make to head towards that future. Not surprisingly, a great many individuals declared their first step would be to grow their own food. Everyone said ‘Bravo”, but inside I shuddered a little. I’ve watched many folks set out on this same path, get totally overwhelmed, and not only fail and feel miserable, but also develop a real aversion to gardening.
I’ve reached an age when my grandmother, at the same age I am now, was an old woman. She wore black orthopedic shoes, a corset, and had tight blue curls for hair. She’d had an interesting life traveling the world when she was first married. She’d been one of the first women ever to attend Stanford University. But in her 70s she seemed Past Prime Time.
“There’s no food in this house!” So came the plaintive wails of our daughter as she perused the kitchen shelves in late December, having newly arrived from completion of her first semester of college. "Really?" I thought. "Is that possible? No food at all?"
The Wharf Shop is a Sag Harbor gem that many of us have counted on for more than 50 years and standing behind all of that inspiration and hard work is Nada Barry, the owner and proprietor of this lovely establishment.
If it’s happening in my garden, I’m fairly sure it’s going on in yours too, so yes, that’s right, the leaves of our spring bulbs are starting to come up already. I know, I know, you’re thinking that’s not good, right? But here’s the deal, and this is super important, there’s no need to panic.
The whaling business was practically “dead in the water” in the last decades of the 1800s. At the time, the New York Sun described Sag Harbor as “a deserted village with a waste of empty cellars, vacant lots, tumble down cooper shops, and deserted buildings.”
In Nashville, Tennessee. When we heard our family would all be meeting up for Thanksgiving in Nashville (our oldest granddaughter and her fiancé work and...
It’s not that I’m anti-holidays, it’s just that every year there seems to be a touch more craziness peppering the atmosphere over these four to five weeks, so it’s with a tiny bit of elation that I tell you I won’t be attending Christmas this year due to a surgery.
Those were simpler times. I’m not sure there was a Michelin star rating that could have captured the simplistic beauty of the Whalers Motel, right on Long Island Avenue in Sag Harbor. For many years the sign read, “Whalers Motel-TV-Heated.”
On a dark and stormy night when there’s nothing to watch on TV, you might want to don your greatcoat and go snooping for paranormal activities, that is, a search for ghosts. An old, old house where some foul deed or terrible accident occurred many years ago is a likely place to investigate.
In June 2018, the Whitney Museum of American Art announced the establishment of the Roy Lichtenstein Study Collection, created by the Roy Lichtenstein Foundation’s gift of more than 400 of his works in all media spanning his entire career.
“Why are you going THERE?” everyone wants to know”…especially why are you going there for Thanksgiving.”
By Bruce Buschel Judge: Mr. Buschel, you are allowed, though not required, to be accompanied by an attorney and witnesses. Your honor, I have no attorney...
This year Sag Harbor’s Kathi McCarron will celebrate having a family that she never knew she had. Ancestry DNA and her “search angel,” Marsha, have opened a new and exciting door into Ms. McCarron’s life.