FRONT PORCH PERSPECTIVE No Need For A Brick By JIM ATWELL • Special to www.AllOTSEGO.com Nope, I’m not addressing you from the front porch – it’s icy out there. Rather, I’m sitting just inside a front window, woolgathering. Though, in fact, it’s not woolgathering that I’m doing, literal or figurative. Just now I’ve been spending our prescribed aloneness running through gratefully the crowd of adults who shaped my once young man’s values. And one of those was my Great Aunt…
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FRONT PORCH PERSPECTIVE If Not For A Buttonhook By JIM ATWELL • Special to www.AllOTSEGO.com Some years ago, I had dinner at Great-Grandpa’s house down in tidewater Maryland. It’s a handsome brick house with dormers, and it used to face a clear view across the fields to broad West River. But realtors overran the area, and the fields filled up with houses for commuters to Washington. And Great-Grandpa’s house is now a restaurant – a high-toned French one, mind you,…
Front-Porch Perspective Avast, Maties! Editor’s Note: Only a partial version of Front Porch Perspective was published March 12-13. Here’s the full version. By JIM ATWELL • Special to www.AllOTSEGO.com Nope, I’m still not sitting on my front porch, laptop frozen to my lap. Maybe after I spot a first crocus, I’ll try writing out there again. Hey, I’m old and a bit ditsy – but not nuts. Meanwhile, last week some whimsical friends did find a way to distract themselves…
Front Porch Perspective Avast, Maties! Nope, I’m still not sitting on my front porch, laptop frozen to my lap. After I spot a first crocus, maybe I’ll try writing out there again. I’m old and maybe a bit ditsy – but not nuts. Meanwhile, last week some whimsical friends did find a way to distract themselves from the winter. They organized a pirate party and held it at our house. And what, you ask, is that? Why it’s an indeterminate…
FRONT PORCH PERSPECTIVE Seizing The Moment By JIM ATWELL • Special to www.AllOTSEGO.com You know me. A synapse sparks inside my skull, and I’ve shot back 1,000 years to grab a good story. Sorry, but it’s an old habit. And after four-score years, I’m unlikely to break it. And, besides, in this instance, this one’s not a 1,000-year leap, but only 954. That takes us back to 1066 AD, a date that’s been stuck to the inside of your skull…
FRONT PORCH PERSPECTIVE Where Everybody Know Your Name… By JIM ATWELL • Special to www.AllOTSEGO.com I’ll admit first off that I’m not writing this on my front porch. It’s as cold as, well, January out there, for heaven’s sake! And so I’m settled on a comfortable couch back in the family room. Cassey the dog is with me, sprawled on her back, nose almost on my keyboard. Though her face is upside down, she is staring at me fixedly, intent…
Front Porch Perspective On Thanksgiving, Remembering Blue Four years ago on a snowy winter day, Dr. Fran Fassett came to our house and released our good old Blue from his failed body. It was amazingly peaceful, even blessed time. Anne and I had had Blue for about 10 years. He was a rescue dog who’d been picked up along Route 88 near Oneonta. Thank God, he was brought to our own animal shelter. A friend on staff there contacted Anne;…
COLUMN FRONT PORCH PERSPECTIVE Angst At Age 15 By JIM ATWELL • Special to www.AllOTSEGO.com Last time we talked, I described the start of a major teenage crisis: when I knocked a nun flat on on her face, and then sat on her. To summarize: During halftime of our high school’s basketball team, I was selling candy and gum in the hallway just outside the gym to raise money for new uniforms. I was sitting on the edge of rickety…
A Front Porch Perspective My Right Leg Has Always Had Bad Karma I’ve been on the porch this afternoon, enjoying one of the last days of sitting out there. A windy Halloween’s just past, and Delaware Street is full of fresh-fallen leaves spinning in whirlwind gusts of chill air from the northwest. Above me are repeated flights of honking geese, hell bent for the South and warmer climes. My right leg’s propped on a second chair. Right foot and calf…
A FRONT PORCH PERSPECTIVE She Would Have Loved That Smile Editor’s Note: Jim Atwell penned this column on Aug. 30, 2001, when he and Anne were still living in Fly Creek. By JIM ATWELL • Special to www.AllOTSEGO.com I can’t do justice in words to an incident last Saturday. It was too rich with meaning. But the moment was so wondrous that I’ll still try to tell you. Read the words, please; then make up for their shortfall from your…
