There have been a lot of strange nights around the Fourth of July at our place. This year might turn out to be one of the strangest.
There have been a lot of strange nights around the Fourth of July at our place. This year might turn out to be one of the strangest.
Let's pause a moment to reflect on the passing of Joe Sinnott, artist and inker instrumental in shaping the look of the Marvel Comics universe in its 1960s heyday.
The question is if — not when — schools will welcome back students. And the question also is how teachers and administrators are preparing.
On this, the first day of summer, I thought it would be fit to fetch the snow shovel from its place beside the front door and take it to the shed out back. “I guess we won’t be needing this for a while,” I said to Mary, before recalling that given the winter that wasn’t, we hadn’t needed it at all.
There is a sense on South Fork streets and on the beaches that we may somehow have defeated the virus. There is no evidence this is true.
A self-imposed race against the clock to give blood as the pandemic drags on.
Reactions have been negative to a $60,000, six-month contract between the Town of East Hampton and a New York City-based communications firm hired to help get the word out about Covid-19 issues and to redesign the town website.
Exactly six years, eight months, and one day have elapsed since the last time I played the cello.
When Mary said we were already in heaven, our backyard providing ample evidence that it exists, I said Emily Dickinson had said something similar in some of her poems.
What Obama designates Trump takes away, and in the case of a recent decision to open the almost 5,000-square-mile Northeast Canyons and Seamounts National Monument, what may be taken away if the move is allowed to stand cannot be replaced.
Fifty years ago, on June 28, 1970, my husband, Rick, and I took our vows at the Jewish Center of the Hamptons on Woods Lane. Ours was the first wedding held at the Jewish Center, which 17 Jewish families, including mine, founded in 1959.
Dinnertime for black-backed gulls more or less coincides with people dinner around here, or so it seems to me.
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