Articles

Remembering Richard

The first day of spring arrived on Swan’s Island about 14 hours after a blizzard arrived. I watched the snow blur outside my window, debating over the phone with Sue Wheaton about whether knitting group ought to be canceled. It was. Spring seems to have sunk in at last, with a few rain showers driving

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One-room schools, then and now

I grew up hearing stories of my grandmother’s days in a one-room schoolhouse, working with one ear tuned in to catch the older students’ lessons across the room. Some local history group moved a tiny renovated schoolhouse (which spent part of its life as a chicken coop) to the field across from “the Farm,” my grandmother’s

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