I grew up in a family that loved books. Our family room had floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on one end and an extra bookcase on the side to catch the overflow. We girls all had bookshelves in our rooms, and it was not unusual to find us reading in our beds or in the bathtub. Our whole … More The Books We Love
“Wanted: by two persons, old fashioned Thanksgiving dinner. Anywhere on Cape Cod.” This line in Fair Tomorrow starts the Thanksgiving holiday for me. On a day set aside for gratitude, my thoughts turn sentimentally toward family, the warmth of traditions, and especially the Thanksgiving meal. We know food is not the point of Thanksgiving, … More Thanksgiving on the Cape
Emilie Loring books are available in libraries, used-book shops, and online, but be sure you have the real ones. … More Where can you get Emilie Loring books?
Emilie Loring published her first book under the pseudonym “Josephine Story.” The source of the name was said to be her husband’s middle name. Simple enough, right? Emilie’s husband was Victor Joseph Loring. Did Emilie add “Story” through artistic license? When she started her book column, did she already intend to write stories? Her … More a.k.a. Josephine Story
I didn’t grow up eating scones. We had toast, biscuits, doughnuts, the occasional muffin, but no scones. The only scones I knew were Emilie’s. Flaky and toothsome, oozing jam and butter, I could almost smell and taste them. That’s why, when I read Emilie’s first book, For the Comfort of the Family: A Vacation Experiment, … More A mouse in my tea
There are design reasons why this courtyard at the Boston Public Library invites one to rest, contemplate, and linger, but simply walk in, and you can feel it. A special place for a cup of coffee, a sandwich, a chapter… Bostonians are only half-kidding when they say they want to keep the courtyard a secret. The … More Boston’s Little Secret.
Entering Blue Hill, Maine for the first time, I had two choices: go left on Main Street toward the Fish Net restaurant and a fork in the road, or go right on Main Street, into the village. I needed information; I turned right. This was 1998, and all I knew at that point was that Emilie’s summer … More The Past Comes Calling