Tennis anyone? Baseball? “Shoots?” 

Two grandsons, a panting grandmother and 24/7 sports in the Big Apple

A book signing — a coveted recipe — a lost key — and all the time wondering: What would Grisham do?

Shorter days, earlier sunsets, a red tinge on the maple trees — a new season has arrived along the Maine coast.

“There are shaggy asters blooming in the bed that lines the fence,
And the simplest of the blossoms seems of mighty consequence.”

Edgar Albert Guests — “The Path to Home”

Webster’s Dictionary definition: a short period devoted to indulging in an activity to excess.  

Binge-Watch: an active verb; Val and Bob’s new hobby.

Really? Yes, I heard it on the TV.

Joyce Butler is a writer and retired town historian, now in the twilight of her years here in Maine. Her essay “Fall” is one to read and savor. And then reread.

“Whatever happened to Bermuda shorts?” one mother mused as her seventh grader and high school junior headed out the door on the first day of school.

Relax over Labor Day Weekend with a NEW murder mystery written by Mr. Wonderful himself, Bob Marier

My garden has yielded a cucumber bonanza.

Local lobsterman Bill Matthews hauls in soft-shell lobsters (shedders) on an August morning.