News

Sadly, I get most of my news these days from the newspaper in the town where I did (am doing?) my field research. When life gets crazy, I fall behind on my newspaper reading. Eventually the stack of newspapers is just so awful to look at that I do nothing else (when it comes to academic work, that is) but read month and two-month-old papers. This can be torturous.

This evening, however, I was entertained by a parade of amusing, heart-warming and/or particularly Maine-ish stories. There was the letter to the editor requesting that the person who stole the writer's garbage can return it or, at the very least, come by for the lid so that the thief might get full use out of it. There was the account of the string of bank heists involving a suspect, still at-large, described as a man "“wearing a blue sweatshirt, jeans and sunglasses."” Let's not forget stray kitten that fell part way through a storm drain where it hung, head in the middle of a busy downtown street, until, less desperate measures failing, the fire department was able to free it using a chain saw and the jaws of life.

And then, there was this story, which gave me such a chuckle and made me homesick for what I believe is a particular Maine real-ness.

We used to collect dandelion greens and clams and fish for mackerel for dinner.