Author Archives: Susanna J. Sturgis
Snow at Last
The temperature may dip down below 10 degrees F, Trav’s outside water may freeze solid every night, and longjohns, a wool sweater, and sheepskin slippers may be a constant part of my indoor wardrobe, but it isn’t really winter until … Continue reading
Internet Blackout
High winds kept the SSA ferries in their slips last Friday and Saturday. Some people freaked out. Not me. Didn’t I once go two and a half years without going off-island? I started to wallow in my own smugness — … Continue reading
Homage to Dr. King
I had something I wanted to write on Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday, and then on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. I didn’t write it because I had a job I really had to get done. The job went off … Continue reading
Musicale
When I first heard a couple weeks ago that there’d be a musicale at the Pit Stop on January 14, I couldn’t wait. But as the date drew closer, my enthusiasm drooped. I didn’t want to go. I was afraid … Continue reading
Potluck
Apologies for long silence — work does tend to get in the way of life, even when you basically like what you do for a living. Two of the three jobs I’ve had in since mid-December were delivered either on … Continue reading
Wandering Waylon is featured in a story in the new Martha’s Vineyard Times, along with a lovely photo by Betsy of Waylon and Kevin.
My License Plate Fetish
Everyone should have a hobby, right? Mine is collecting license plates. Well, OK, not quite: I don’t go around swiping license plates off cars or buying them at estate sales. I live in a studio apartment and what disposable income … Continue reading
Blogmanay
To close out the old year, WordPress, the host of this blog, kindly e-mailed me an annual report. It’s so bling-intensive that it’s crashed or stalled Firefox every time I’ve tried to open it, but still, I appreciate the thought. … Continue reading
Waylon Comes Home
A two-week saga has come to a happy ending, but I’m sorry to say I can’t tell but a fraction of the story. The star, the hero, the protagonist, the guy who knows what really happened — he’s not talking. … Continue reading
Pit Stop
Some cold winter nights it seems that Oak Bluffs is just too far from West Tisbury to venture after dark, but other nights the incentive is powerful enough to make me bundle up and set off. (Note to off-islanders: Oak … Continue reading
From the Seasonally Occupied Territories . . . 