Editorials
Midsummer Steam
The evening sun is picking up its pace, and so is everything else on the Vineyard. As the sun races too fast for the horizon, we all seem to be racing, too — racing too madly along our rural roads, racing to tick off all our vacation traditions, racing to make enough money from the season. We even race to find some relaxation, knowing it’s ridiculous.
Letters to the President
Save Our Farmland
An acre a minute. That’s how much farmland is currently being lost to development and other causes in America, according to a report written by the American Farmland Trust titled Farming on the Edge.
So there I was, hurtling along the West-Tisbury-Edgartown Road in my 1948 red Willys Jeepster convertible, the wind blowing in my hair, sun shining on my face and 200 pounds of patty-pan squash riding comfortably along with me in my open-air vehicle. Was this a dream, had I robbed a farm stand or was I planning to feed famished friends? No, no, and well, maybe, sort of. Let me put on the brakes and explain. (Don’t worry, the squash are securely boxed. I installed seat belts. And the Jeepster is not that fast.)
Community Services at Half-Century Mark
