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life sketches - Page 3

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BERKSON: Letting go of the past is a challenge at any age

Life Sketches Letting go of the past is a challenge at any age My son Jonathan called me the other night to tell me he missed the old house in Brooklyn. He had lived there his whole life, as I did mine, except for the Army and my longest winter in Richfield Springs. I told him I missed the house, too, and described my last days there. We had sold to a builder, so I knew the old Victorian was…

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BERKSON: Fighting the burdock seems to be my mission

Life Sketches Fighting the burdock seems to be my mission Burdock is an enemy I’ve been trying to eradicate since we moved to the farm. It was growing thick all around the barn, so, first I weed-whacked it and later mowed it and now there’s only grass where there once stood a Velcro-like mob waiting to take hold of your pants, socks and bootlaces. When these sticky weeds are at the edge of a hayfield or in a hedgerow it’s…

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BERKSON: Remembering the sad story of a Soviet Prisoner

Life Sketches Remembering the sad story of a Soviet Prisoner He sat under the apple trees at Holy Trinity Monastery outside of Jordanville as the warm breeze lifted the thin pages of the book he was holding. Lush foliage seemed to exude an abundance of life. Church bells marked the time of day, but he didn’t appear to notice as his thin, intent face strained to absorb the words. The thick book he was reading was nearly turned to its…

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BERKSON: Saying goodbye to Bert, man’s best friend

Life Sketches Saying goodbye to Bert, man’s best friend Bert always watched me, even though he didn’t let on. He was an Irish setter and thought his only purpose was to hunt birds. I’d come home from work and peek through the fence to see him lounging upside down in the grass. Then I’d enter the yard and as soon as he’d see me he’d jump to his feet, his old bones grinding and start hunting up the mourning doves…

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BERKSON: Vivid memories were made working on the farm

Life Sketches Vivid memories were made working on the farm Of all the farms I worked on as a boy, the most memorable was the old Borden Farm, which was on the east side of Canadarago Lake outside of Richfield Springs. By the time I came along, it had recently been sold to Bill and Shirley Weingates. Back then, they were milking about 200 cows on one of the biggest operations in the area. The first job I had was…

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‘Impetuous 30s’ led to Richfield Springs farm

Life Sketches ‘Impetuous 30s’ led to Richfield Springs farm In what my dad later referred to as his “impetuous 30s,” we left Brooklyn one summer and headed for Richfield Springs to stay with my father’s older brother William and his wife Ruta. One afternoon, Dad returned to Uncle William’s house, his car steaming after a long trip. “I’m buying a farm,” he announced as we all sat at a big round oak dinner table. “A farm?” Uncle William said. He…

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BERKSON: The amazing mind-reading machine claims a victim

Life Sketches The amazing mind-reading machine claims a victim Sometimes my father would sit in his chair, lost in thought, for hours. I’d often wonder what he was thinking about. Maybe it was about my mother who had a nervous breakdown several years before and was still in the hospital. He used to take me in his yellow taxi to country auctions, where he’d buy things that we would need on the farm he would buy some day. Even as…

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Life Sketches: Whistling with my fingers, thinking of songs

Life Sketches Whistling with my fingers, thinking of songs By TERRY BERKSON • Special to www.AllOTSEGO.com These days, much more than ever, there seems to be music playing in the background of almost every dramatic television program. Years ago an experimental show called Cop Rock was aired for a while. It blended the drama with musical numbers. The songs were about what was happening in the story. I thought it was a great idea but at that time it didn’t…

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BERKSON: Raccoon in the hen house starts raucous battle

Life Sketches Raccoon in the hen house starts raucous battle The other day I finished weeding the garden and walked out to the chicken coop to water and feed my birds and collect their eggs. Disappointment hit me when I opened the door and found a dead chicken sprawled out on the floor with a leg half chewed off. I had left the chute leading to the yard open overnight as I had been doing for the last several days.…

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BERKSON: Pen pal letters brought good news from France

Life Sketches Pen pal letters brought good news from France For several years my friend Charlie ran an international pen pal business that he had inherited from his father. When I expressed some interest in the many countries people were writing from Charlie asked if I’d like a free subscription for my daughter and I accepted. “You pick out the country and the pen pal,” Charlie said. I’ve always been a Francophile so I chose France and a girl named…