Autumn in the North Cemetery.

Sixty miles west of Boston, Massachusetts there is the small New England town of Sturbridge. Located at the junction of I-90 (The Mass Pike), and I-84 it has become known as the "Crossroads of New England". The town was first settled over 300 years ago, and like other small New England towns it has grown just enough over the years to be in a difficult place today. How do we embrace the future without forgetting how we got to our present? How do we attract the right kind of growth, and maintain who we are? And, what about our culture out here in Central Massachusetts?

These pages will cause one to think about how to protect what we have, our future direction, and how to move on in the very best way.

Those thoughts, and other ramblings, will hopefully inspire more thought, conversation, action, and occasionally a smile...

...seems to be working so far

Sunday, July 3, 2011


No matter how great a vacation is, how many sights are seen, how many moments shared, there is always the end.

We are at that place now. Sitting in the Fort Lauderdale International Airport awaiting the only flight on JetBlue back to Hartford. It'll be a while.

Sometimes I wish I could shrinkle up my nose like Elizabeth Montgomery used to do, and instantly transport me and Mary, home, with all of our luggage, in an instant. In a shrinkle.

Most importantly, there is family at home waiting. There are welcome home hugs to give, and get. Grass to mow. Mail to get. Cats to scratch, and plants to water. Photos to share, and stories to tell. Then there is work. Always there is work.

I guess that is okay. Without work, there would not be vacations. Trips without the escape from work are just that, trips. Vacations are true escapes.

This past week we escaped, and no one found us.

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