With a pen and camera
I think I’ve seen just about everything this election year. It won’t get the best of me in spite of it. So, after conferring with my buddy, Humphrey, we determined that he is another option for the ballot. Humphs may not have fluency in diplo-speak and he doesn’t speak from both sides of his mouth [jaw?], but he will be honest about things…and you will know it.
Spread the word. You’ll feel in the dumps, if you don’t vote for Humphs!
Yes, the fireworks were entertaining, but the sunset was soul-searching…I was lucky to have both….
Self-Portrait April 2016, The Sterling & Francine Clark Art Institute
I think plasmatic energy from Herr Karl Lagerfeld was coursing through the New England air….
It’s a wonderful drive to get there. Along the way, you’ll see some of the most pastoral and picturesque landscapes that New England can offer.
The restaurant at South Face Sugarfarm is celebrating its last season. For over 30 years, the family has been serving a variety of New England breakfast fare to visitors from all over. Many visitors become regulars who then make the trip every Spring to partake of homemade waffles, pancakes and more. Naturally, the sugarfarm’s maple syrup is the siren that prompts visitors to make the trek. Ours is a leisurely one hour drive.
As far as I can remember, they didn’t do much advertising through the years. You might open a Thursday Lifestyle section of the local newspaper and see a small ad. That was it. No radio, TV, outdoor, direct mail and so on.
I suppose in its purest form, word-of-mouth marketing is its biggest champion in generating traffic. Whenever we’re there, it’s often crowded and if the weather is half-way decent, people who signed in for a table wait outside. We’ve since learned to go as early as possible. People don’t mind waiting; call it rural networking if you will, as you’ll hear introductions and conversations that could work just as well in a big city cafe.
The experience at South Face Sugerfarm Restaurant defines the brand. It’s consistently congenial, comfortable and more. The food is great of course. The service is very good and the overall feel is one of down-to-earth simplicity. Paper plates and plastic utensils are the order of the day. Everything else is home-made if not uniquely belonging to South Face.
On some visits, there’s a cacophony of “hellos” and “great to see you again” mixed in with small talk and the occasional hearty chuckle or a chorus of “No way!” The cozy dining room can be whisper calm one moment and bustling the next.
I know I’ll miss the drive up to little Ashfield, Massachusetts and miss the South Face restaurant even more. But this is New England and somewhere, another sugarhouse beckons an introduction.
CORRECTIONS: I received word from the owner that advertising was actually regularly done via newspapers in the area as well as on the online directory, massmaple.org as well as more recently on Facebook. My apologies for the error.
Everyday life is filled with idioms. Sometimes I think of them as bridges connecting a concept, a service, a product, even a person. After a snowfall, the gates open and I’m at the mercy of a brain that works to find a metaphor, an idiomatic expression, a slice each of the expected, unexpected and infrequently, something on the order of the unimaginable.
My favorite type of snow is the dry, fluffy stuff. It may not pack well to create a snowball or a snowman, but it’s easy to shovel off a driveway or brush off a car. For many skiers, fresh powder is nirvana: how can this get any better?
This kind of snowfall encourages you to look around. The cars are covered like blankets. Flat, open fields are akin to a slice of white bread. The trees look powdered by confectionary sugar. This kind of snow is a visible version of a special aura. Whatever is under the snow takes on another quality. Attributes of beauty, protection, secrecy, purity, freshness are some that come to mind. “Use _____ soap because it’s as pure as the driven snow.”
In this case, snow isn’t all that bad now, is it?
Carlo Centeno 