My New Year’s resolutions/Are soon forgotten delusions/About who I could be.

It was the year 1945 and I was the lighthouse keeper’s daughter at Cuttyhunk Island Lighthouse, where my father kept the light located at the western end of the island.

On Christmas Eve when snow was thick, To Martha’s Vineyard came St. Nick, And all his reindeer wearing masks.

The other day while I was on hold listening on speaker-phone to both sides of a Fifth Dimension album while trying to set up a new healthcare policy, my thoughts flitted back to Florence Krine.

With Christmas approaching, I searched the other day for holiday cookie and cake recipes in my cache of old-time recipes.

Paul Greenberg writes about the outdoors. Most often he can be found at sea chronicling the life of fish in his books.