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Tuesday, March 28, 2017
Wednesday, March 22, 2017 1:56 PM
At 4:40 p.m. on March 14th, four hours into the snowstorm, the power went out. Thankfully, we’d already had a little “power bump” a couple of hours earlier, just a quick blink, which served as a reminder for me to draw off a few . . .
  • A few days ago the post office in Winthrop, Maine, burned down. Permit us, the people of Matinicus Isle Plantation, to express our sorrow and understanding to the residents of Winthrop. We had the same thing happen here . . .
  • As we get through our little bit of hard-core winter, my favorite thing in life may be something I haven’t got. This thing that makes me smile is an absence, a negative, a trouble that isn’t mine: I do not have to commute. . . .
  • We hear, or read, in the marine forecast that the wind is “gusting to 45 at the buoy, with 19-foot seas every 11 seconds.” What does that mean for daily life, if you aren’t out to sea in a fishing boat? To me, it hopefully means I can stay home . . .
  • Along with half a million other columnists I have made offhand mention this month of the national silliness of resolutions, New Years’ type, one each, size large. As we are continuously hustled on television by a diet industry and by . . .
  • I know what I should resolve. Going with the traditional guilt-inspired self-improvement theme, I ought to watch my language, eat my vegetables, clean up the dooryard, and stop interrupting. We’ll see. . . .
  • Monday the 26th of December is, or used to be anyway, celebrated in certain mostly British parts as Boxing Day, a day for giving a present or a gratuity to those who do all the usual and routine jobs that keep civilization — or one’s . . .
  • I like Christmas concerts, especially loud ones. Living on this island limits participation in organized seasonal merriment to a certain extent, but I try to get to some sort of music each year, be it the Portland Symphony or the Freeport . . .
  • This time of year the pleasant, sunny days become a bit more valuable, and aren’t to be thoughtlessly squandered on paperwork and indoor improvements. A blue-sky, no-wind day this late in November is not when . . .
  • Around Thanksgiving we get appropriately sentimental and, if we are wise, give some consideration to reasons for gratitude. I’ll leave the mush and slobber to Hallmark, the friends and family stuff to the Butterball ads and alehouse ...
  • The venerable line about the role of the journalist being “To comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable” was never intended — by Edward R. Murrow or anybody else who said it — to mean “It is the role of anyone with . . .
  • As I write, we are enjoying the first fire of the year in the kitchen stove, we just had a gust of 48 mph, and the lights just blinked. The weather report is “You can’t get there from here.” Weatherman says the rain will be done in . . .
  • Because I venture off this island for so many different reasons, I get asked the usual questions on a fairly regular basis. To tackle the unanswerable question “How many people live on that island?” one more time feels . . .
  • Doctor Bob, so called, was a scientist and a clown, a stilt-walker in parades, a nerd and a jester and an antique tractor buff, a mechanic and a Ph.D., a survivor of much, a genius and an oddball and a sort of unrelated uncle . . .
  • Tom, I think we think alike. Want to get coffee? You hang around much? Ever find yourself with idle time to loiter around Rockland’s cafes mingling with the foreign language students, the off-season schooner deck gangs, the rained-out . . .
  • As summer winds down we cannot help but start noticing who leaves and who stays. The week before Labor Day begins the exodus, and over the next four months, people will continue to leave this island, until we are down to our . . .
  • I’ve been taking flying lessons, mostly in Belfast, for over three years. From time to time somebody who knows I’ve been taking lessons for a while asks, “Have you soloed yet?” Actually, first solo is not the end of pilot training . . .
  • By this time of year those of us who make a living attending to the needs of the public are found browsing catalogues of polar-fleece garb and hunting paraphernalia, crossing days off calendars with red Sharpies . . .
  • The Lobster Festival is up and running and, as you read these words, Rockland is quite likely charming and well-scrubbed and just a tad on the crowded side. I hope you have found a comfy coffee shop or a good . . .
  • It is an honor and a privilege to live on this bay. This morning—that meaning a few days ago, as you read this — the fog was thick and I was supposed to do some stuff on the mainland. The air service obviously would . . .
  • From Offshore: Fourth of July Parade
    “You suppose we’ve got a book around here that will show me how to put together a sousaphone?” As readers might recall from previous comments, we have quite a few books in this house. . . .
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