Shopping at Target for school supplies takes us into the arms of August, summer’s last great hump. I smell the Ticonderoga pencil shavings already...
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Waking up to this blanket of snow is as unfamiliar as if I had stepped into a movie scene for White Christmas. This is the winter I imagined. This is what I expected from Connecticut. But we’ve had lovely, undefined days, mostly. The kind that almost ache in their beauty: winter sunshine stretching out...
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