Archive - Dec 2009 - Staff Blog
When the Champlain Bridge was demolished on Dec. 28, the explosion echoed through Addison County. Now the bridge is gone, but it leaves in its wake 80 years of history. This is a place for the community to share thoughts and memories of the old bridge, feelings on watching it go down, and hopes for the new bridge. Leave a comment below!
For news coverage of the Champlain Bridge, click here.
6:30 on Monday morning was dark, the roads slick and the air icy. There was no reason to be up so early. Well, no reason but a bridge demolition.
Which was why John Flowers, Trent Campbell and I were already on our way out to Addison, cameras and notebooks in hand to cover the last moments of the Champlain Bridge. The bridge wasn't scheduled to blow until 10, but we were hoping for a parking space at the Bridge Restaurant, right at the heart of the action.
When I think of the holidays, I think of lots of relatives gathered around the dinner table, enjoying the company, the occasion, and an indulgent meal. It's a time when normal food rules are suspended, the dieters, fitness freaks and food-obsessed alike using the occasion to try some of everything. (Why, yes, I'll have some of Grandma's cookies, but not without a side of Uncle Morgan's pumpkin pie…)
Plus, as an added perk, I get to stop obsessing about how much each serving is costing me or how many meals I'll get out of whatever I'm making and just enjoy the food.
I have just finished putting out my rows of milk cartons with 24-hour votives lit inside them. It is the evening of Dec. 21, the winter solstice, the shortest day and longest night of the year. For those of us who migrated to the North Country, winter solstice is a bit of a non-event in terms of marking the official beginning of winter.
I am not exactly what one might call a dedicated composter. I don’t water it on a regular basis, turn it, or measure the temperature in the center to make sure the microbes are happy little critters. I’ve been known to throw weeds, seeds, and even (heaven forfend!) dairy products into the mix. Because I am careless about maintaining the correct proportions of “greens” to “browns,” (i.e. fresh organic matter with decayed material or dirt), my compost bins smell quite charming, even in the depths of winter.
This is the third in a four-part series of cheese posts. The first was about making mozzarella cheese, and the second was about Orb Weaver Farm in New Haven. Stay tuned for the fourth part next week!
Note from the Online Editor: The Web team here at the Addison Independent is very excited to introduce our first community blogger — Rebecca Reimers, a Brandon resident, parent, and educational consultant. Rebecca will be sharing her thoughts about southern Addison County and the town of Brandon in "View from the Borderland," a series of blog posts on our Web site. In the months ahead, she'll profile local residents and businesses, tackle issues of local history, roam Brandon's cemeteries, write about her home and her family, and more.
This is the second in a four-part series of cheese posts. The first was about making mozzarella cheese.
When Marjorie Susman and Marian Pollack bought land in New Haven and began making cheese in 1981, there were no other cheesemakers in Addison County.
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