Holly Nadler

A Room of Their Own, Vineyard Retreats Helps Writers Develop

They come from all over the country, staying for one or two weeks or up to a full month. They explore Edgartown from their home base at the former Point Way Inn. Some of them work in their rooms, others find a nesting spot in one of the many elegant downstairs parlors. For dinner they might bring home scallops from the Net Result, ingredients for a pasta Siciliana, and share the meal pot-luck style in the formal dining room, which is two stories high and lit up like a stage set.

 

 

 

In the Armageddon movies, as glaciers roll over Manhattan and supermarkets vaporize from lethal microwaves, you never see a character like Russ Cohen, author of Plants I Have Known . . . And Eaten, leading groups of refugees through fields of sheep’s sorrel and chuckleberry to snack on nutritious greens.

But should we find ourselves in the midst of a disaster of similar magnitude, the bearded expert on wild food foraging, clad in cap, jeans and rubber Wellington boots, is just the guy you’d want as a buddy.

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Mother’s Day arrives each year with an odd dichotomy: It is universally held to be a marketing gimmick, and yet it’s widely observed by even the most cynical among us. If mothers approach the holiday with any attempt at mindfulness, then adoptive moms may have an edge in that department.

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A suicidal husband, a vaudeville act down on its luck, a pair of commedia dell’arte clowns, two morbidly sensitive shepherds, and a train passenger trapped in the loo with an idiot conductor on the far side of the door. What do these characters have in common? Well, brought together in one-act plays under the aegis of Island Theatre Workshop, they represent a fruitcake slice of the human predicament. They are also, as samples of the absurdist tradition, a whole bunch of fun.

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The good thing about January is that it isn’t December. December, of course, is when we spend too much money on presents, stress out that we’re compelled to send cards and letters, attend parties and fundraisers, and string up tired decorations. Or we’re feeling guilty that we’re not doing any of those things. But on occasions during each Christmas season, we’re bound to partake of an event that makes it all worth while. A performance of Amahl and the Night Visitors is one of those occasions.

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