Jay Sames
Enjoying spring hiking was an evolution for me. There are disadvantages, but there are a lot of things to like about it. Let me take you back 30 years to explain. When I moved to New Hampshire, three decades ago, I soon began to climb the 4K-foot peaks of the White Mountains. It was nice,…
Lire la suite...
If you know me, you know I get up early, often before dark—even in summer—and I sit reading on the porch in the twilight. When summer turns to autumn, I hold out as long I can stand, until the layers and hats get too bulky to be comfortable. Coffee at my elbow, I sit on…
Lire la suite...
I’m a guy who looks up words as I read, and tries to remember them. Books I own are filled with scribbled definitions in the margins. It’s interesting to return to a book years later to notice what easy words I didn’t know then, and what I’d still have to look up now. In a…
Lire la suite...
Last spring, it was time. I was 60, and the book that topped my “read-someday” list mocked me from the bookshelf. I had sought companions to read Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past, to help me understand and finish it. But now I was going to tackle James Joyce’s Ulysses, about which so much had been…
Lire la suite...
Making sauerkraut is a spiritual endeavour. First you must become inspired, and then you must gather the few necessary ingredients. After that you must settle into the rhythm of production, hypnosis by repetition. Finally—by equal parts proximity and magic—the fermentation occurs of itself, with little help from me. Acknowledgement of the mystery, nature-orchestrated for over…
Lire la suite...
Guests frequently ask if I’m an artist. It’s a question as ridiculous as whether I am the much slenderer man in the upstairs photograph of a cyclist, who is really Ken Graham, Lynda’s father as a young man. No, I’m not an artist, but I know why they ask. From the side porch of the…
Lire la suite...