The Old Badger Willow Brook has been altered again Originally published in The Freeman’s Journal on Aug. 3, 1977. Willow Brook runs into Otsego Lake near the foot of Pioneer Street. Its course has been altered to run down the far side of a strip of land there, which is being readied for whatever is going to be built – probably houses. The brook ends at the Lake, but … Where does it begin? I’ll trace it to its source…
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Columns - Page 62
Bound Volumes July 29, 2021 Compiled by Tom Heitz/SHARON STUART, with resources courtesy of The Fenimore Art Museum Research Library 210 YEARS AGO With what contempt does the freeman of America glance at the silly attempt of such things as emperors and kings to induce them to join their sanguinary play, which sends thousands in an hour to their long home; while the Americans are infinitely better employed in cultivating their fertile fields and extending their settlements into a vast…
LETTER from WAYNE MELLOR What’s the cost of zero-carbon energy I received several thoughtful comments from our readers concerning the last column and would like to address them. The investment bank Lazard published the most recent Lazard’s “Levelized Cost of Energy and Storage” in late 2020. The comprehensive report includes all the costs of creating and storing a megawatt of power including land, construction, operating and maintenance. According to the Lazard report, new, unsubsidized utility scale power sources have the…
Life Sketches Howling at the moon to help ‘the chickens’ During a cold snap several years ago, night temperatures up on our hill on the west side of Canadarago Lake were hovering around 22 below zero. Worried about my chickens freezing their gizzards off, I hung a 100-watt bulb on a wire in our small coop inside the barn and let it burn 24 hours a day. I’m sure it raised the temperature a bit, but it also increased egg…
Be Afraid, But Do It Anyway Our family secrets still feel haunting Nature or nurture is a question I keep asking myself. Why have I always been afraid? Did I learn fear? Why did my parents keep to themselves? Kept us close to them? No overnights with other kids. Or other kids sleeping at our house. Maybe not just because our house wasn’t as nice as the other kids? My family lived secrets. Were Mom and Dad just shy? Or…
I identify as an anime character, and that’s OK with me Some things never change, which includes my spending weekends watching anime in my apartment alone. Two and a half months since I’ve moved to Oneonta, I find myself curiously identifying with anime protagonists with a target audience of pre-pubescent boys. People may raise their eyebrows at me, perhaps think I’m crazy, but I consider anime to be one of the greatest things in life. Nothing has the ability to…
HOMETOWN HISTORY July 22, 2021 Compiled by Tom Heitz/SHARON STUART, with resources courtesy of The Fenimore Art Museum Research Library 135 Years Ago Mr. N.C. Hart of Oneonta, who is presently on his annual pilgrimage in the North Woods, writes poetically of his time there: “I have built me a cot close by a great rock at the base of a high mountain crest where the hawks sail around and game doth abound, and the eagle has chosen her nest.…
Bound Volumes July 22, 2021 Compiled by Tom Heitz/SHARON STUART, with resources courtesy of The Fenimore Art Museum Research Library 210 YEARS AGO A Comet! Another of those singular and extraordinary bodies has made its appearance within view of our globe. It was discovered a few evenings since, but its apparent smallness and the haziness of the atmosphere, prevented its being again seen for several evenings. Its present place at dark is a little south of west, and about 25…
Up on Hawthorn Hill Garlic harvest is one of my favorite routines William Cobbett published his classic on gardening, “The English Gardener,” in 1829. I turn to it often not so much for its gardening advice, but for Cobbett’s often curmudgeonly, sometimes philosophical, comments about certain plants and how to go about dealing with them. Interestingly, his section on what he describes as “garlick,” is short and to the point; plant it, dig it up when ready and hang it…
The Old Badger Miller place brings back old memories of summer Editor’s note: This column was first published July 27, 1977. Somewhere in this town, maybe in a drawer or a kitchen file or between the pages of a cookbook, lies eight “receipt,” and it tells exactly how to make Ma Miller’s piccalilli. It’s priceless. Anyone who remembers the Lake Road when it was made of cement remembers the Miller place. And if you happen to ask about it, sit…
