Leo the pig will not be 4 until the spring, but he already weighs about 10 times as much as his Texas trailer park breeder-slash-con artist claimed he would.
You need no further evidence as to the extent of global warming than the hot air given off in the Republican candidates’ “debates.”
I like my winter holidays cold. Though the weather we’ve had out here has been good for the thermostat, it just doesn’t feel like the holiday season. The warmer climate takes away from the essence of Thanksgiving.
Evvy, our middle child, was delighted Monday after school when she learned that she was a winner in the East Hampton Town Trustees Largest Clam Contest. Her 12.3-ounce hard clam was big enough to claim the top spot among kids in the Accabonac division, and earned her a basket of prizes.
Speaking for myself — as a mother, and perhaps for my generation —I am both horrified and perplexed by the dystopian worlds that young people immerse themselves in (I hesitate to say enjoy) these days on television, in young-adult novels, and in popular films.
I told Jen Landes, who’s conducting a survey as to whether males are more inclined than females to put flat lids on their coffee, and whether, conversely, females are more inclined than males to put on raised ones, that she could put me down as a raised-lidder.
“I tried to talk with the dead last night, but the dead, being dead, gave no reply.”
I remember the first Thanksgiving in Amagansett, long ago, after I was married but before our children were born, primarily because it was my first experience cooking a goose; I’ve still got a small scar on my right thumb testifying to inexperience where goose fat was concerned.
“You can’t make them read it,” or some variant thereof, has been an occasional phrase around The Star newsroom over the years.