Editor’s Note

My mom’s mother was always “Grandmother” to my siblings and me, but to her friends she was known as Monoo. She was a world traveler, interior decorator, storyteller and collector of curiosities.

Maybe it’s the placement on the calendar between two holiday juggernauts, but there’s one annual celebration that is easy to forget, unless you are one of the millions of people for whom it was named.

“October Country ... that country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and midnights stay.”

As a kid, my tribe was the nerds and weirdos. Truth be told, it still is. Fortunately for me, the Granite State tends to attract such people. One of our features this month makes that case and awakened a few memories.

There’s been a lot of name-calling in recent years, so it’s interesting when an epithet becomes a commendation. To be a called “nerd” was once to be sidelined, but now it’s a quirky badge of honor.

I lived in the Deep South in the early 1980s and the stone water fountains in our town park still had “White Only” chiseled into them. No one paid much notice, except to point out how slowly some things change.

Since the old order of things has been tossed and everything is changing, here’s a thought. What if I appointed you, dear readers, to take over some of my editorial duties? Don’t laugh. It’s happening.

You learn a lot walking a dog around the neighborhood every day. One lesson is that all creatures have their own favorite places to visit and enjoy.

Time flies when you’re having fun. Or not. The last time I subjected myself to the trial of having an “official” portrait taken was in the summer of 2009. That shot has aged much better than I have, but it was time to let it go.