I met Phil Latham in July 1989 when interviewing for a job at the Lufkin Daily News. At the time, I was working unhappily as editor and publisher of the Fort Stockton Pioneer. That part of West Texas didn’t suit me, though some fine people lived there. When I watched a tumbleweed the size of a Volkswagen Beetle come tumbling down the central street downtown, I knew it was time to leave.
So, I called Joe Murray, then editor and publisher of the Lufkin paper, saying I would take anything to get back to East Texas. He put me in touch with Phil, then his managing editor, who told me to make the long...
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CONCORD, MASSACHUSETTS — After five days of unseasonably warm weather, at last we have been rewarded on a brilliant Saturday with near-perfect temperatures in the 70s, just in time for a nice hike along Walden Pond, a few miles outside this quaint town of nearly 20,000. I was born 60 miles north in Concord, New Hampshire. This is my first visit to its Bay State counterpart, incorporated in 1775 and celebrating its 250th birthday this year. The Granite State Concord is a decade older and sports about twice as many residents. Neither town is exactly a metropolis.
Walden Pond gained its fame...
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First in a series from my native New England.
AUBURNDALE, MASSACHUSETTS — The small towns circling Boston meld seamlessly into each other, often in a matter of blocks, one weather-beaten city limits sign after another. The place we booked is allegedly in Newton but shows up as Auburndale in our maps app. I went on a walk just after sunrise the other day as my Beautiful Mystery Companion and daughter Abbie slept. I discovered where Purgatory Cove, which laps up against the backyard of our Airbnb rental, feeds into the Charles River. I went from Auburndale to Newton in a matter of steps. Suddenly,...
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I maintain a small Red Sox shrine near my desk, acquired over the years. There’s a Mr. Potato Head in uniform, holding a baseball glove in his right hand and a ball in his left. I was a left-handed baseball player, both batting and throwing, even though I do everything else right-handed — eating, playing tennis. That is why my Mr. Potato Head Red Sox guy is also left-handed. His arms are detachable.
A Big Papi bobblehead doll resides in the shrine. David Ortiz was a key player in the 2004 championship season that ended an 86-year World Series drought for the Red Sox. He went on to help the team...
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This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never dried all at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising.
Eternal sunrise, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.
— John Muir
In March 2020, during the early weeks of the pandemic, a graphic designer was living in an apartment in Amsterdam. Like tens of millions of us, digital creator Barbara Duriau was stuck at home. It seems so long ago, almost unreal now. The pandemic’s effects were stark and real. Most people knew at least...
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“Under certain circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer.”
— Mark Twain
One summer day when I was about 5, I was playing in the backyard of our home at 27 Valley St. in Allenstown. N.H. With a toy hammer, I was pounding plastic pegs into a wooden case that had rectangles, circles, triangles, and squares cut into the surface. Unsurprisingly, given how I turned out, I was either trying to hammer a square-cut peg into a round hole or a round peg too large to fit into the square hole.
I...
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I bought a new tractor a couple of weeks ago, trading in Little Red for a shiny orange model that is sturdier and simpler to use. Like its predecessor, it is considered mid-sized, doesn’t have a cab, and is small enough to slip under the many trees here at Three Geese Farm in order to mow. The first time I used Orange Crush, as I have named her, I mowed about half the side pasture. I was pleased with the result and eager to return the following day to finish the job, on a Saturday morning.
Three Geese Farm comprises 57 acres, approximately half of which is bottomland. It has been a mighty...
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This tragic Fourth of July weekend will long linger in our collective memories. The Hill Country flooding was a horrific — and ongoing — nightmare. We grieve and pray for the families and friends of the victims.
Tragedy struck much closer to our Northeast Texas home on Sunday afternoon. Ignacio “Nacho” Aguillon, 53, and his son, Israel, who was 11, died in a head-on collision in Upshur County. An SUV driven by a 16-year-old crossed the center line on Farm-to-Market Road 852 near Lake Gilmer and struck Nacho’s 1997 Nissan pickup, according to the Texas Department of Public Safety. I learned...
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The ink is faded but still legible on an 8x10, black-and-white photograph hanging in the bedroom. The inscription reads “Kemo Sabay,” Clayton Moore, The Lone Ranger. The masked avenger crouches in a desert setting, a saguaro cactus in the background. Besides the requisite black mask, the Lone Ranger wears a bandana around his neck, a long-sleeved snap pearl western shirt, a fancy belt with silver studs, and a revolver strapped to his right hip. He looks ready for action. He also appears to be sweating profusely.
When I was a kid, Clayton Moore, the Lone Ranger, came to Pleasure Island, a short-lived...
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We are admittedly a bit late to the game, but we have started composting here at Three Geese Farm. With four hens laying eggs daily, and us frantically trying to devour as many of these delicious miracles of nature as possible, there is plenty to compost, coming out of the coop and the kitchen. I bought a compost bin with ventilated sides that sits outside behind the coop. I also purchased a kitchen countertop compost container that is airtight. That is for coffee grounds, eggshells, banana peels — every perishable form of food waste except meat products.
I feel absurdly virtuous now that...
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