St. Patrick’s Day is past and we’ve had our Irishman of the Year breakfast. We’ve donned our green clothes, consumed our green beer along with our corned beef and cabbage. Time to turn the page.
As has been my custom for more than a decade or so, I recently spent another fine, March day traveling down Schroon Lake way in order to attend the annual Adirondack Sportsman’s Dinner.
Put on your thinking cap. This is a quiz. Tell me what these items have in common: Furby; talking Cabbage Patch doll; Roomba, R2 D2; and animated Disney characters playing Christmas music.
Recently, while watching our family dog toss his stuffed toy around the room, I wondered if he was simply playing, or actually refining his hereditary hunting skills.
North Country winters are normally long and cold. That’s the way it is here. But last year, and now this frigid season, however, things are way out of control.
The 20th annual Sportsman’s Dinner was held at Wells School Saturday, March 7.
When I was little and ran up to my dad, begging for something we couldn’t afford, he would raise his huge hands and say, “Hold your horses. Let’s talk about it.” What is there about mankind and horses?
Last weekend, I witnessed a fairly large bird repeatedly attack a group of smaller birds at my feeder.
It may not seem like spring will ever get here, but in time, Lake Champlain will thaw and pose a potential danger. Ice fishermen, dog walkers, cross country skiers and cold water wanderers of all sorts, can become victims if they break through thawing or rotten ice.
In last week’s column, I referred to the process of rewilding our youth, in the same manner we rewilded our lands.
The Beatles did a song a while back called Day Tripper, if you are lucky, you can listen to it on your way to one of the following programs.
High heels. My muses are at work again and that’s what they gave me today.
Before our last snowstorm a pair of blue jays flew at my kitchen window.
January 2015 made the phrase ”real Winter” a very appropriate way to describe a very cold January.
I suppose it’s one of the most common afflictions of age, and it likely explains our unrelenting desire to return to familiar, natural surroundings.