Some time ago I took to heart some words of Buckminster Fuller: “You never change things by fighting the existing reality.
Blogs & Columns
Remember Alice in Wonderland and the white rabbit? I do, and recently I’ve been heard muttering “I’m late, I’m late… for a very important date!” all around town. Even as a kid, being prompt was important, mostly because members of my family were habitually late for Thanksgiving dinners, cello recitals, school plays and the like.
With summer’s heat and humidity in full swing lately, we make our way to water—the cherished Delaware and Lackawaxen rivers, as well as other lakes and streams throughout the Upper Delaware River region. Such waters are a primary reason that many of us choose to live here or to visit the area.
The first sign was the feeling of tiny blisters through my silk nightgown on awakening. Now, the rash is hot. It itches constantly. Blisters cover my back from neck to hip. It has come early this summer.
It’s no secret that I’m a bit high strung, but I learned long ago that pharmaceuticals are not the answer for what ails me. I used to apologize for my idiosyncrasies, but the older I get—well, what would Popeye say? My friend Lynne was just here for a visit, and it was nice to have company for the last few days.
The Glass Factory School was located in Dyberry Township, in the area known since the very early days of Wayne County as the “Old Glass Factory Road” or “Coffee-Pot Road.” The latter name supposedly came from the pupils at the Glass Factory School heating their lunch beverage on the school stove.
Summer is here, and the big insect hatches of spring are just about over. For us fly fishermen, summer fishing is a much more laid-back time to fish. The choices for trout fishing are far more limited than during the cooler months, and the insect hatches are much less diverse.
Bears on the wild side
Bang! Boom! Smash! The loud racket at the front of the train car broke the tranquility of my staring peacefully out the window. It seemed that one of the duffel bags had rolled off the overhead rack, landing on the head of its owner and his three companions.
First name Amanda, last name Reed. And boy oh boy, do I owe her one.