08.01.15

Excuses, excuses. That’s what I had when it came to pickles. Or I should say, that’s how I avoided making pickles. I’m a farmer! I’m busy at pickling time! Who has time for canning? No place to put those jars! The list went on and on. Good Lord, I even turned down an opportunity to write a preserving cookbook (and this was several years ago before the Return of the Age of Preserving – which of course never went away on the Vineyard), because, I told the editor, I am not a preserving expert.

Susie Middleton

08.01.15

As the wooden fishing boat slows to a halt, twenty-three rods rest perpendicularly on the red metal railing waiting for the signal. When the motor cuts, the weighted and squid-baited lines drop immediately into the water, finding their way down about fifty feet to the bottom. Tap, tap, tap, the hits come nearly instantly. Within minutes, maybe even seconds, amid shouts and whoops, silver fish dangle from multiple lines.

Catherine Walthers

06.18.15

I walked into the Portuguese-American Club in Oak Bluffs on a mild Monday evening with my mom in tow and was greeted by a blast of music and a mix of excited twenty-somethings. We were all there for one reason, and one reason only – to learn how to paint. Well, maybe two reasons: we could enjoy some refreshing alcoholic beverages as we channeled our hidden Caravaggio or, in mom’s case, awakened her previously undiscovered inner Dalí.

Nicole Grace Mercier

05.01.15

 

Ivy Ashe

03.01.15

It was an offer Bob Tankard couldn’t refuse. With the Island bowling-deprived since the 1990s and the new Barn Bowl and Bistro set to open its doors in Oak Bluffs, pent up kegler energy was rising to potentially dangerous levels. Fortunately, one of the owners of the new bowling venue knew the job of channeling kingpin karma would be, dare we say, right up Tankard’s alley and he appointed him the first Bowling Commissioner of Martha’s Vineyard.

Geoff Currier

03.01.15

For years I’ve been going to the dump and dutifully separating my recyclables, and then every once in a while someone will say to me: You know, they just throw all that stuff into one big truck and haul it away – what’s the point?

Geoff Currier

11.11.14

Rarer even than an irruption of snowy owls is the chance to skate all the way from Aquinnah to Edgartown. A remembrance of a time gone by.

Stan Hart

11.10.14

Winter sports are a not-so-secret pleasure of Island life in the season between late fall beachcombing and the thrilling arrival of snowdrops. All the more so because the appearance of ideal conditions cannot be predicted or promised. Only anticipated and prepared for.

Nicole Grace Mercier

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