Does anyone besides me remember the “Edmund Scientific Catalog?” Its arrival in the mail was like a secular Christmas.
Graveyards freak people out. I still remember a childhood playmate telling me, long ago, you have to hold your breath while walking or driving past one or you might “inhale a ghost.”
Call it a walkabout, a pilgrimage or a spirit quest, but the idea is basically this: You’re so busy and burdened that to get back in step with your life you’ve got to walk away from it for awhile.
Having lived in concord for nearly 30 years, i’ve somehow become one of the old-timers who can say, “I remember when ...”
I’m a second child in my family, so I have a great sympathy for runners-up. When I see someone picked as “the Best,” I often wonder. “Who came in next?”
My dad knew the name of just about every living thing in the woods and fields where I grew up. He was an amateur scientist and tried hard to impart his love of nature to his children.
I’m sure that enough has already been written and said about the march vote of the NH legislature to deny the request of a 4th grade class to have the red-tailed hawk named NH’s official raptor, But I’ve got a stake in this.
You can learn a lot from a yard sale. And not just about the people hosting it — though it’s tempting to judge a family on the books and debris of their lives that they have on display.
Marking the memories at Manchester's Palace Theatre as the "jewel of the Queen City" turns 100.
Just as 2014 was coming to a close, NH’s theatre family lost a dear friend named Kevin Riley. He was a friend of mine too. Not a close one, but a guy I was glad to know. I never heard him speak an unkind word about anyone — and in the ego-driven world of theatre, that’s rare.