It was the late in the afternoon on Monday, the 19th of August, 1991, when our vacationing family found themselves hunkered down in Charlotte’s parent’s family room in Wellesley, Massachusetts. It had rained most of the day. It was dark outside, though only 4:30 in the afternoon. ...
From Coy Pond, located on the campus of my Cap Ann, Massachusetts Alma Mater, it was a wooded half-mile walk to Round Pond, where into its southern tip, I dragged the one-man Sunfish. I had read up on this thing called “sailing.” I had talked to my skilled friends about it. But this ...
Standing in front of our son at the airline’s premier-status line was a fellow in well-worn jeans and a t-shirt. His beard was long, gray and his hair poorly groomed, or so it seemed. Most notably, however, was theinattentive treatment the man received from the agent behind the ...
She is barely a one year old. But, apparently, little Charlotte already has the worry bug. You see, at this point, our granddaughter’s only two words are a sing-song “Hi,” and a more serious, “Shoes” Oh, maybe she’s not really stressing about what to wear. ...
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