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Wits’ End
The title of this post illustrates one of the things I like most about writing. Predictably for a kid who was taught to write by the nuns, using that soft paper with three lines on it (two solid ones...
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A Brief Intermission
Hello from Sarah Graves, writing to you again from Eastport, Maine, where I have just returned from a short trip to the outside world. It only took a few days but I feel I got a pretty good dose of...
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A Change of Plan
Hello again from Sarah Graves, who has planned for traveling but has not been doing so. For instance: The 2014 Crime Bake in Dedham, Massachusetts was great, I hear. I was supposed to learn this in...
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December
Hello again from Sarah Graves, writing to you from Eastport, Maine where the last rose of summer has created rose hips like those at left, as big and juicy as Bing cherries. I always plan to make rose...
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23 Hours and Counting
Hello again from Sarah Graves, writing to you once more from Eastport, Maine where by the time you see this it will be mere hours until WINTER AT THE DOOR is published. That’s me at left, of course,...
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Bullet Points
We had a burst of winter here in Eastport, snow all day and plows rumbling by outside. It’s a different place now from the one summer visitors experience, and in its way just as lovely. You can’t see...
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Dig Dig Dig
Hello again from Sarah Graves, writing to you from the farthest northern reaches of the Arctic Circle…no, wait, I’m still in Eastport, Maine. It only feels like the Arctic north, partly due to the 47...
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Let It Snow…Not
We’ve had eleven feet of snow here in Eastport over the past few weeks, and things have been going along pretty much as you’d expect. Every vehicle with a plow on the front or a bed in the back has...
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Growth Spurt
Hello again from Sarah Graves, writing to you from beneath fourteen feet of snow in Eastport, Maine, and what better location for some gardening dreams? Snow is the poor (wo)man’s fertilizer, after...
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Bambi Go Home
Hello again from Sarah Graves, thinking today about innocent woodland creatures. Who belong, you should excuse my saying so, in the woods. Or if they eat up, befoul, and generally infest Eastport for...
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