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richard derosa

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Hawthorn Hill Journal: Of Signs and Democracy

One aspect of this perennial circus that I would like to see done away with is the placing of signs everywhere—lawns, intersections, buildings, cars, etc. My wife has been a bit grumpy with me because I have insisted that we not place a sign at the bottom of our driveway divulging to all the world our preferred candidate.…

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Hawthorn Hill Journal: Of the Olympics, Patriotism

White faces, black faces, yellow faces, what a wonderful pallet of what America is and always has been about, a stewpot of all kinds of people from incredibly diverse backgrounds, all sharing in the joy they feel at the accomplishments of their fellow citizens. This color thing has always puzzled me.…

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Hawthorn Hill Journal: Of Garlic, Bluebirds, Bees and Yeats

This annual garlic adventure of mine turns out to be a time to wrestle, without having to pin them down, some of the more worrisome problems we now face “in these United States.” It is easy to ignore unpleasantness; even harder to know what to do about it. As I was hanging up the last of the garlic, I was thinking of W.B. Yeats’ great poem, “The Second Coming.”…

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Hawthorn Hill Journal: On Prototypical Manliness

I am aware of the extent to which grilling and manliness go hand in hand. By that account, as well as others, it appears that I fall short with respect to any acceptable measure of masculinity. Since I have never allowed specious stereotypes to stand in my way or diminish my sense of self, so be it. Men, if grilling satisfies some inner need, be my guest.…

Hawthorn Hill Journal: On Playpens and Politics

One news tidbit today had to do with how much money each of the presidential candidates has amassed. I gave up donating money to political campaigns some time ago. I would rather donate my money to organizations that focus on urgent needs, such as hunger and eradicating malaria.…

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Hawthorn Hill Journal: What’s In a Name?

Years ago, when birding in Costa Rica, I remember the excitement of seeing my first Wilson’s warbler. I knew what it looked like, its habitat and feeding preferences, and with the help of an experienced guide was able to see one for several minutes up close.…

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Hawthorn Hill Journal: Waste Not, Want Not…

Over the past several weeks, as we have been busy attending to pre-winter chores in our gardens, one word has repeatedly come to mind: waste. We try to minimize our waste stream up here on the hill. But I was thinking of how wasteful we have become in our relations with one another.…

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