Potato Stuffing

A couple of summers ago, I went to an outdoor dinner and concert in our small town. The setting overlooked a watery meadow where the West River flows out of the Vermont mountains and joins the Connecticut River on its way to the Atlantic Ocean. The felicity of the geography has made it a meeting, gathering place, and trading center for millennia. The short growing season and otherwise hilly terrain has kept it small, though nonetheless useful.

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Humanity Doesn't Have a Side

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Two Hours Before the Show