09.01.09

I am one of the crying mothers. On the first day of school, I let loose. But my sentimentality is becoming increasingly problematic, as my daughter, Maddy, is now a sixth grader. I find myself crying alone.

I recall last year we woke up extra early, even though her clothes had been laid out for days. I made pancakes, and we gave ourselves an additional five minutes of driving time.

Kate Feiffer

08.01.09

John Hough Jr.’s new novel Seen the Glory ties the Vineyard to the Civil War, providing insight into issues of that day for the nation and this island. An excerpt from chapter one follows.

08.01.09

Though we’ve settled on the Vineyard, many of us still feel like wash-ashores. As the daughter of a diplomat who moved around the world every year or two, feeling rooted is a challenge. Then, a few years ago in the Vineyard Gazette, I came across some lesser-known names of early settlers of the Vineyard and was surprised to see my husband Jeff’s surname: Wass.

Deborah K. Sillimanwass

08.01.09

I understand it’s August. Knowing you get inundated with letters in December, I thought perhaps you’d have some downtime now. It’s lovely here, and I don’t want to sound like I’m whining, but I’m a freckly redhead and my doctor says I should stay out of the sun. The problem is I don’t go to the beach until mid-afternoon and by then it’s almost impossible to get a parking spot.

Kate Feiffer

08.01.09

Though we’ve settled on the Vineyard, many of us still feel like wash-ashores. As the daughter of a diplomat who moved around the world every year or two, feeling rooted is a challenge. Then, a few years ago in the Vineyard Gazette, I came across some lesser-known names of early settlers of the Vineyard and was surprised to see my husband Jeff’s surname: Wass.

Deborah K. Sillimanwass

07.01.09

I recently had the opportunity to go to Washington, D.C., and not meet the Obamas. I was hoping to run into them, perhaps over dinner at the White House, but that didn’t work out.

Kate Feiffer

07.01.09

Growing up on Martha’s Vineyard, I’m a born host. Friends start popping up with the crocuses in the spring, checking our availability for weekends in July and August, and my husband, Dave, and I are happy to oblige. Last July, an unplanned and uninvited visitor arrived seeking haven. This was not a college friend or long-lost cousin, nor even the same species.

Linley Dolby

07.01.09

Out on the water the sun starts to go down, an orange ball dropping into the ocean, the kind of daily finale the tourists applaud at Menemsha in August. Lev Wlodyka watches it appreciatively, and suddenly prime time has arrived. The monofilament peels off my reel, and as I wait for the moment to set the hook Lev starts to coach.

“Hit him, hit him, hit him!”

David Kinney

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