Being sick makes me stupid. Now that flu season is here in full force, accompanied by the other horsemen of headache, sniffles, and fever, we all have time to reflect upon these seasonal gifts.
Honestly, I don’t hate holiday letters in and of themselves. What I can’t stand is their “humble bragging,” designed to make the rest of us poor mortals feel like total schleps and idiots.
I keep hearing that “reality TV” is increasing in popularity these days. What I don’t understand is what “reality TV” is. OK, it’s television; I get that.
I love mysteries, especially the ones that are described in the genre as “cozies.” Those are the ones set in English manor houses, with fluffy old dears like Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple of St.
Samhain (usually pronounced sow-en, because Gaelic spelling has very little to do with actual speech) is the origin of the Celtic harvest festival that we call Halloween.
Saratoga is just a bit different. I’ve been in touristy towns before, and they all try to enhance the impression for which they’re famous. Maine residents wear slickers and heavy sweaters.
