HOME INDEX

Beginning in 2018 "Ruth's Neighborhood" entries were also posted on Ruth's FACEBOOK page where her entries (usually weekly, on Sunday mornings) lead to lively conversations.

This Page: January - March 2026

NHPR'S BIG QUESTION

March 22, 2026

                 This month on New Hampshire Public Radio I’ve been hearing the announcement of the March Big Question. As explained on their website, every month “we ask you a question about life in New Hampshire, you submit an answer, and your voice may be featured on air or online.”
                 For March:
“Our state has lots to offer. From the mountains to the coast and the lakes, there are many different ways to adventure in New Hampshire. For March’s Big Question we’re askingStart to finish, what’s your ideal day in New Hampshire?
“Where would you stop? What would you eat? Whom would you see                Some past Big Questions have been:
              • “What’s an experience you’ve had that best represents town meetings in New Hampshire?”;
              • “How do you have a conversation when you disagree?”;
               •“What’s something you wish your community had?”

                I decided that to imagine an answer to the ideal-day question I would return to the time before Don died.
                And suddenly the answer was obvious. A hike!  A hike that we still might do in our later years.  Nearby; no long road trip before and after the hike.
                Red Hill.
                Yes, Red Hill on a cool clear summer day.
                First we’d have a favorite breakfast. I never mastered the art of poaching eggs but Don did and made them for our Sunday breakfasts. Whatever day of the week we chose to be ideal, we would have poached eggs.
                Then into our packs we’d stuff the basics including the emergency items, water and snacks, jackets, compass, map, little first-aid kit, etc., and we’d drive past Red Hill’s foothills to the sign for the road to the trailhead.
                I wrote about Red Hill in 2020:
                “This 2,030-foot ‘hill’ is the inspiration for Mount Pascataquac in The Snowy Series. That fictional mountain rises above Snowy’s Hurricane Farm and atop it is the fire tower tended by Tom.  From the Red Hill fire tower photographer Bob Kozlow took the photo of a view of mountains and a distant village, Sandwich, for the cover of HENRIETTA SNOW.
                “My father put Red Hill into his 50 MORE HIKES IN NEW HAMPSHIRE and wrote, ‘I lived only 20 miles from Red Hill for 38 years before I climbed it. Now I wish I had long ago known enough to take my two daughters up it before having them tackle Mounts Washington, Moosilauke, and Lafayette . . . What a view we’d have had: lakes all around and peaks arrayed to the north . . . a fine reward for so easy a hike.’ Why the name? Well, ‘Red oaks grow over most of Red Hill.’ It does turn red in autum                So on the ideal day Don and I would hike up the trail (“Distance, round trip: 3 ½ miles. Walking time: 3 hours round trip”) to the summit, about which my father wrote,
“Walk past the generator shed and the old garage and the shingled warden’s cabin and climb the rock to the fire tower’s steel girders. In the surrounding glade and oaks, the blueberry bushes and grasses compete for the earth that is unoccupied by protruding ledges. Vistas of lakes and mountains open to a 360-degree panorama as you climb up the fire tower and look over the treetops.  There’s no way to describe the view briefly. I must list it to get it all in. So here’s the panorama starting southeast and turning full circle to south, west, north, east, and southeast again.” The long list begins with Mount Major and ends with Copple Crown and includes Mount Chocorua’s famous “rock spire” and the Ossipee Range (“best view of it anywhere”                Afterward, back at the car Don and I would continue onward to Moultonborough’s drive-in restaurant named, of course, Red Hill Dari. At one of the tables shaded by colorful umbrellas we’d have fried clams and French fries; dessert: soft-serve ice cream in cups, chocolate for Don, vanilla for me.
                Home, we would unpack our packs and get our books and step out onto the back porch to sit and read—and to watch chipmunks under the lilac bush, beavers swimming in the pond.
 

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

LONGEST SONG TITLE

March 15, 2026

               In the LACONIA DAILY SUN there’s apt to be an item now and then about the Colonial Theater on Main Street. This always hurtles me back to the 1950s Colonial that inspired the movie theater in THE CHEERLEADER. Recently it got me singing.
              As I’ve written about here and in the pre-Facebook “Ruth’s Neighborhood,” on Saturday afternoons at the Colonial with my friends I sat enthralled through musicals—SHOW BOAT! SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN! I’ve mentioned that AN AMERICAN IN PARIS is my (and Snowy’s) favorite. We kids also saw lesser works such as ON MOONLIGHT BAY and BY THE LIGHT OF THE SILVERY MOON and maybe we got rather sick of Doris Day and Gordon MacRae. But we gobbled the whole gamut along with our popcorn. I would leave the theater humming, trying desperately to remember lyrics such as a comic duet sung by Fred Astaire and Jane Powell in a 1951 musical, ROYAL WEDDING, with its clever rhymes (“You’re really naïve to ever believe a full-of-baloney phony like me.” I was twelve in 1951. The name “Alan Jay Lerner” in the screen credits meant nothing to me in those pre-MY-FAIR-LADYdays.
              At the computer, after I’d sung what I could remember of the comic song I Googled it. Wikipedia told me that “The song’s title is considered the longest of any song in MGM history.”               The title and lyrics are:
HOW COULD YOU BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAID “I LOVE YOU” WHEN YOU KNOW I’VE BEEN A LIAR ALL MY LIFE?
[Fred sings] “How could you believe me when I said ‘I love you’
When you know I’ve been a liar all my life?
I’ve had that reputation since I was a youth.
You must have been insane to think I’d tell you the truth.
How could you believe me when I said we’d marry
When you know I’d rather hang than have a wife?
I know I said I’d make you mine
But who would know that you would go for that old line?
How could you believe me when I said ‘I love you’
When you know I’ve been a liar,
A double-crossing liar, all my doggone cheating life?”
[Jane sings] “You said you would love me long,
                   And you never would do me wrong
                   And faithful you’d always be.”
[Fred] “Oh, baby, you must be loony to trust
            A lower-than-low two-timer like me.”
[Jane] “You said I’d have everything,
           A beautiful diamond ring,
           A bungalow by the sea.”
[Fred] “You’re really naïve to ever believe
           A full-of-baloney phony like me.”
[Jane] “How about the time you went to Indiana?”
[Fred] “I was lying, I was down in Alabam’.”
[Jane] “You said you had some business you had to complete.”
[Fred] “What I was doing I would be a cad to repeat.”
[Jane] “What about the evenings you were with your mother?”
[Fred] “I was romping with another honey lamb.”
[Jane] “To think you swore our love was real!”
[Fred] “ But baby, let us not forget that I’m a heel.
           How could you believe me when I said ‘I love you’
           When you know I’ve been a liar—”
[Jane] “A double-crossing liar—”
[Fred] “A double-crossing liar—”
[Jane] “All your good-for-nothing life!”

              I then Googled Alan Jay Lerner. Eek, he has married eight times! Eight! Wikipedia said, “Lerner wrote in his autobiography (as quoted by THE NEW YORK TIMES): ‘All I can say is that I had no flair for marriage. I also had no flair for bachelorhood.’ . . . this lent some irony to the lyrics for his song ‘Get Me to the Church on Time.’”
              And then I watched ROYAL WEDDING, not in the Colonial Theater but on the TV screen.
              And right now I’m singing again.

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

FIRST JOBS

March 8, 2026

               A dear friend has sent me a delightful clipping from OUR WISCONSIN magazine’s “My First Job” page in the December/January issue. It’s titled “No Swirl Girl,” written by Elaine Schuler of Clintonville, Wisconsin.
               Elaine explains that her older sister had worked at “the Dairy Queen on Richmond Street,” so that’s where Elaine got her first job at age seventeen:
               “ . . . I walked down to the Dairy Queen on a warm July evening ready to prove myself to the real world.
               “First, I was introduced to the other two girls working that night. They seemed quite nice and helpful. They taught me how to use the soft-serve machine. Well, little did they know I was left-handed and the lever for making the signature curl on top of the cone only turned counterclockwise.
               “I tried to turn the lever around, but it just resulted in a glob on top instead of a curl. I dumped a lot of soft serve into the tray under the machine. I kept trying, then the machine started to shake and make gulping sounds. Steam was accumulating on the windows inside the place too.
               “Out of frustration Mr. Kernan [the owner] suggested I put the toppings on the sundaes. That sounded like a great idea. Wait a minute. The ladles for dipping the toppings had a spout on the left side, which meant I had to scoop it backhanded. Again, I made a mess all over the counter.
               “The customers were now anxiously waiting for their cold treats on this balmy summer night. I was getting frustrated, too, which made matters worse.
               “Only 2 hours into my shift, I acknowledged that this job just wasn’t going to work for me.
               “Meanwhile, Mr. Kernan wholeheartedly agreed, and I’m sure he was quite relieved.
               “Feeling like a loser, I walked home with my head hung low . . .
               “Being left-handed has never been a problem in any of my other jobs.
               “After my fiasco at Dairy Queen, I went to work at Quaker Dairy, a nearby bakery. There I scooped ice cream out of 5-gallon tubs. Easy peasy.
               “As a junior high and high school teacher for 26 years, I had students who worked at a Dairy Queen. I always asked them how they used the soft-serve machine and the ladles for sundaes. They described the procedure to me. Sure enough, it’s the same as it was in 1960. I still wouldn’t be able to work there.
               “However, my one day on the job did provide life lessons I shared with my students. Try something new. Learn from your mistakes. Move on. Share your experience with your family.”

               As I’ve written about here, my first job also involved ice cream—the real kind, not soft-serve. My best friend, Sally, and I worked at Sawyer’s Dairy Bar in Gilford the summer of 1955. Not being mechanically inclined, I did have a challenge with scooping so it wasn’t easy peasy for me at the beginning. (I’m right-handed but clumsy.)
               The next summer Sally and I worked at Keller’s restaurant on Laconia’s Main Street.  In 1906 Otto Keller had taken over a candy store, which eventually became this downtown restaurant known for its homemade ice cream in addition to homemade candy. The little restaurant is gone now, its site obliterated by the unfortunate “urban renewal” of that section of Main Street in the 1960s. Kellerhaus, located in the Weirs, is its new version.
               But during the summer of 1956 Sally and I were in Keller’s, wearing our white waitress uniforms and white sneakers, carrying trays from the soda-fountain-and-grill area to the booths, the jukebox playing Pat Boone and Elvis Presley.
               Keller’s was the inspiration for the Sweetland restaurant in THE CHEERLEADER. I borrowed the Sweetland name from the earliest Main Street restaurant in my memory, to which Penny and I were taken by our Grandmother Ruth when we were very young. We had our first sundaes at Sweetland, not hot fudge but chocolate syrup over vanilla ice cream in a doily-lined sundae dish. It was stunningly delicious; I can still remember the sensation of the chocolate taste.                Of course I had no idea that some years later I myself would be making sundaes downtown.

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

SANDWICH BOARD, FEBRUARY 2026

March 1, 2026

               As March begins, here are some items from the February Sandwich Board:

February 18.
               Antique Wallpaper. Looking for a perfect roll of wallpaper from the late 1800s to early 1900s. We are restoring an antique dollhouse and are getting a little short. Thanks, Mark

From Fred: Lol . . .
              I love it, Mark. In most other public forums this would be a laughable request. Here on the Sandwich Board you’ll probably have 2 or 3 solid offers before the day is out. Good luck.

             From Steve: Uh ha. “You are just a little short.” That explains why you are restoring a dollhouse!

February 19.
               Moonlight Owl Prowl. Monday, March 2 at 7 p.m., join the Chocorua Lake Conservancy for a Moonlight Owl Prowl with former U.S. Forest Service wildlife biologist Chris Costello and CLC Stewardship Director Debra Marnich in Chocorua. We will listen for owls and experience the world of nocturnal animals by the light of a full moon.

               Storm date is March 3. By suggested donation.

February 21.
               Thoreau Comes to Sandwich. Allan DiBiase. February 21, 1855 in Thoreau’s JOURNAL: “We now notice the snow on the mountains . . . I think there can be no more arctic scene than these mountains, on the edge of the horizon, completely crusted over with snow, the sun shining on them . . . the snow has a singular smooth and crusty appearance, and by contrast you see even single evergreens rising here and there above it.

[Photo by Allan, February 21, 2019, from the Buzzell Ridge. Snow on the ground  in the woods, the evergreens rising. In the distance mountains flowing upward over summits into the sky.]

February 21.
               Fairgrounds. Does anyone happen to know if the fairgrounds have been groomed this morning? It’s beautiful out there and we would like to take our son cross-country skiing if they are. Thank you so much.

February 23.
               Downy Woodpecker. I thought I would share these pics of a cute little Downy Woodpecker. In one of the photos you can see a third eyelid called a nictitating membrane that protects the eye while pecking!

          Cheers, Nancy. [I don’t think I’ve encountered the word “nictitating” before. Needless to say, I Googled.]

February 25.
               Tomorrow at 7 p.m. at the Benz Center: Vernal Pools Talk. Join the Conservation Commission tomorrow evening when we’ll be talking about vernal pools in Sandwich. Wetlands scientist Rick Van der Poll will provide an overview of vernal pool ecology, including information on how to find them and why they are so important in sustaining wildlife and biodiversity.

February 26.
               Historic Barn Preservation. To the Owners of Old Barns: NH state law RSA79d allows town select boards to offer fractional property tax forgiveness to barn owners in exchange for their promise to maintain the barn in the spirit of the structure’s historical character. The agricultural building must be at least 75 years old and visible from a public road or waterway. Applications must be received by April 15. For more information about this easement program, ask for a “barn packet” at town hall or give me a jingle.

February 26.
               Gardening Talk March 5. It’s going to be cold this week but already the days are longer, the sun is stronger, and the birds are singing. It’s time to think about gardening. Come hear Erica Desmond of Seedtree Gardens on how you can make your garden sustainable and resilient. Light refreshments will be served. Friends of the Samuel H. Wentworth Library, Thursday, March 5, at 6:30.

             Happy March, everyone, with its First Day of Spring!

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

NEW HAMPSHIRE STATE DOUGHNUT

February 22, 2026

               Along into February my daydreams about summer increase and in these daydreams the vegetables and flowers at Moulton Farm in Meredith are apt to appear. But this February I’ve been thinking about Moulton’s apple cider doughnuts (aka cider belly doughnuts) because of a New Hampshire news item.
               I Googled and got the details from the February 9th VALLEY NEWS:
“Elementary School Students Propose Official New Hampshire State Doughnut

           “A group of fourth grade students from Nashua’s Bicentennial Elementary School crafted a bill to designate a state doughnut after a visit to the State House and learning that the pumpkin was named the state fruit in 2006 from fourth graders in Harrisville, N.H.
           “‘The students from Bicentennial went back to their classroom, did the research, worked as a team and built a thoughtful case for the apple cider doughnut to be named the state doughnut,’ said Rep. Laura Telerski, D-Nashua, who is the prime sponsor of HB-1390.
           “If the bill is passed, New Hampshire would be among only two other states with an official state doughnut: Massachusetts with the Boston cream and Louisiana with the beignet . . .
           “The Bicentennial students prepared a packet, an essay, a petition, a video, and a Powerpoint presentation for the committee’s consideration. Lawmakers asked the students how many doughnuts are acceptable to eat in one sitting (they said two) and what farm has the best apple cider doughnuts (Lull Farm in Hollis, N.H.).”
              A lot of us will be disagreeing about farms. Of course I’m sure Moulton’s has the best. As I’ve written about here, the experience at this family farm includes the scenery. I fondly remember shopping for plants with Penny in the farm’s greenhouses and then sitting on lawn chairs and enjoying a cider belly doughnut and the wide view across fields to the Ossipee Range of mountains.
              I next Googled to remind myself about other New Hampshire state foods. Besides the pumpkin as our state fruit we have a vegetable, the white potato. Then I Googled Maine, which has a whole slew in comparison: State berry: Wild blueberry; State herb: Wintergreen; State pie: Blueberry pie made with wild Maine blueberries; State treat: Whoopie Pie; State sweetener: Pure Maine maple syrup.
               In December 2020 after reading an article about state pies I wrote here:
           “I began wondering what a New Hampshire regional pie could be—and I immediately thought: rhubarb! I’ve loved rhubarb pie since childhood, the first fresh pie after a Granite State winter, when stalks push up out of the garden. I’ve been told that it was nicknamed ‘pie plant’ and the pioneers took a chunk of the beloved clump with them when they headed West. My mother made rhubarb pies; one in particular became a family legend because she wasn’t an early riser unless she had to be but she got up very early one morning, went out to the garden, picked rhubarb, and made the pie!
           “I next thought of squash pie. My mother made that more than pumpkin pie because my father grew winter squashes, not pumpkins
             Squash pie seemed somehow more unique than rhubarb. I decided that my choice for the New Hampshire state pie would be squash.

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

ANTIQUES AND DESSERTS

February 15, 2026

                 In the February issue of DOWN EAST Magazine I there was this article by Charlie Pike, which I enjoyed: “Look Who Finally Made It: At long last, ANTIQUES ROADSHOW rolls into Maine.”
                 He  wrote:

“In June, thousands of antiques lovers lined up in the rain outside Boothbay’s Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens. Clutching furniture, artwork, pottery, and jewelry swaddled in garbage bags and Bubble Wrap, and toting loaded tarp-covered wagons, they snaked their way toward a sea of white tents set up throughout the garden, where appraisers from PBS’s ANTIQUES ROAD SHOW might reveal who was carting around a potential gold mine.

“The event marked the first time in its nearly 30-year history that the popular series has swung through Maine. The perceived snub mystified many in a state where ingrained Yankee frugality and a reverence for history have produced generations of collectors with overstuffed attics. (Here at the magazine, the prolonged omission inspired a ‘Maine Antiques Roadshow’ column that ran for a few years, where local appraisers evaluated readers’ treasures.) Executive producer Marsha Bemko insists the delay was nothing personal. ‘It’s not for lack of desire that we ignored you,’ she says. Rather, it was the lack of a large-enough convention center to accommodate nearly 150 crew members and volunteer appraisers, plus throngs of guests. Several years ago, though, the show began filming in outdoor locations, like gardens and on museum grounds, putting Maine in the running.

“Line producer Jill Giles, whose husband’s family helped create the Giles Rhododendron and Perennial Garden at Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens, thought the 300-acre preserve would be an ideal setting for the inaugural Maine event. More than 17,000 people entered an online lottery for 2,000 pairs of tickets that allowed them to get two items appraised . . . Of the 151 appraisals taped in Boothbay, roughly 90 will air over the course of three ANTIQUES ROADSHOW episodes this month and next . . .

“Among the items that will be featured . . . [is] a circa 1930 seascape by impressionist painter Charles Ebert, given to the owner’s surgeon grandfather by a patient. Whether the piece depicts Monhegan Island, where Ebert had a summer home, or nearby Manana Island is a matter of debate.  But the appraiser felt confident it was worth $30,000 or so.

“Perhaps the only thing more ‘Maine’ than a Monhegan painting was the light rain and fog that persisted throughout the event. ‘It was very cinematic with all that mist,’ Bemko says.”

                 Ah, Monhegan, one of the Maine islands Don and I “collected” before we visited Isle au Haut, which became our favorite.
                 When I turned to the page after this article I saw that I was now on the “Maine Dispatches” page with one item titled “Sugar High.” I read “Sugar High,” getting hungry for dessert, and then I laughed out loud over its last sentence:
“Two Maine dishes made the NEW YORK TIMES 2025 list of best restaurant desserts. The flan at Portland’s Argentinian-inspired Franciska Wine Bar and the bread pudding at South Thomaston’s McLoons Lobster Shack were among the 14 standouts. Incorporating dulce de leche into the flan, rather than serving it on top, gives Franciska’s custard ‘a toasty, burnt-sugar tang,’ the write-up stated, while McLoons’s bread pudding, laced with local blueberries and white-chocolate chips, was a pleasant surprise. ‘For a dessert served at a seasonal establishment with no indoor toilets or running water,’ the newspaper noted, ‘it’s impressively accomplished.’”

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

 

COCONUTS

February 8, 2026

                  Coconut water. This was one of the items I saw when my doctor reported that my potassium was low and I Googled for potassium-rich help. I’d never tasted coconut water. Another adventure!
                  And I burst into the song I’d first heard in my childhood on the radio sung by Merv Griffin in his pre-TV years, “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts.”
When I finished singing I did more Googling and learned that in 1950 it was a “top-ten hit for Freddy Martin And His Orchestra with vocalist Merv Griffin . . . a novelty song composed in 1944 by two English songwriters . . . The song celebrates the coconut ‘shy’ (coconut toss) at funfairs, and the chorus of ‘Roll or bowl a ball a penny a pitch’ is based on the call of the showman ‘underneath the flare’ (of gaslight), inviting the public to play. The ball is tossed or bowled (as in cricket) or pitched at the coconuts with the object of knocking one off its stand.”
                  I sang it again, British accent, bouncy rhythm. And here I am singing it now:

Down at an English fair, one evening I was there,
When I heard a showman shouting underneath the flare:
“I’ve got a lov-er-ly bunch of coconuts.
There they are all standing in a row,
Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head.
Give them a twist, a flick of the wrist,”
That’s what the showman said.
“I’ve got a lov-er-ly bunch of coconuts.
Every ball you throw will make me rich.
There stands my wife, the idol of my life,
Singing ‘Roll or bowl a ball a penny a pitch.’”

                  I was introduced to the flavor of coconuts by Aunt Dot (not an aunt but a family friend and the inspiration for my novel AUNT PLEASANTINE). When she came up from Lexington, Massachusetts, for a visit she always brought my father a box of coconut cakes from Bailey’s Ice Cream Parlour in Boston.
                  Don also was a coconut fan. As I’ve written about here, for his birthdays his mother had made a yellow layer cake with coconut filling and frosting and this inspired me to “invent” a chocolate layer cake filled and frosted with whipped cream into which I pressed shredded coconut.
                  Our coconut treats became occasional coconut macaroons. Then an occasional Mounds bar.
                  And then we learned about a Maine specialty: Needhams candy made with chocolate, coconut, and Maine potatoes!

                 On another subject: February 11th will be the 71st anniversary of our first date. As I’ve mentioned here a million times, it wasn’t really a date; at a dance in the high-school gym after a basketball game I was dancing with an old boyfriend (both of us sophomores) when Don (a lofty senior), laughing, cut in. Don and I danced . . . and danced. He took me home.
                  A year ago on February 10th I wrote in my diary: “The 70th anniversary of our first ‘date’ is tomorrow and already intense emotions, remembering how I didn’t know seventy years ago today that my life would change tomorrow.”

                 Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

PW: Spring Preview 2026

February 1, 2026

            Let’s think ahead to spring! In the December 8, 2025 issue of PUBLISHERS WEEKLY there was the “Spring 2026 Fiction & Nonfiction Preview. Our editors have sifted through thousands of submissions to bring you the season’s most notable new releases, from game-changing histories to high-voltage romantasies. Happy reading!”
            Here are the results of my sifting through their choices:

Art, Architecture & Photography
Abrams Press. TRUDEAU AND ‘DOONESBURY’: THE CARTOONIST WHO TURNED THE NEWS INTO ART by Joshua Kendall (May 26, $35). Biographer Kendall mines archival material and interviews with Garry Trudeau himself for this account of the DOONESBURY creator.

Business & Economics
Norton. BIG TIME: A SIMPLE PATH TO TIME ABUNDANCE by Laura Vankerkam (May 5, $29.99) suggests tactics for making the most of one’s time, including how to stick with long-term projects and maximize leisure hours.

Cooking & Food
Knopf. THE SCONE QUEEN BAKES: 100 RECIPES FOR SCONES, MUFFINS, COOKIES, AND CAKES by Danielle Sepsy (Mar. 24, $38). The founder of wholesale bakery the Hungry Gnome shares recipes for 12 different kinds of scones, vegan cookie butter chip cookies, and more.

History
Dutton. OBSTINATE DAUGHTERS: THE REBELS, WRITERS, AND RENEGADE WOMEN WHO IGNITED THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION by Denise Kiernan (June 23, $32). The bestselling author of THE GIRLS OF ATOMIC CITY highlights the contributions of women during the Revolutionary War.

Lifestyle
Chelsea Green. GARDEN FOR LIFE: STRATEGIES FOR EASIER, GREENER, MORE JOYFUL GARDENING AS WE AGE by Rhonda Fleming Hayes (April 21, $29.95) suggests that older readers adapt their gardening practices to accommodate physical limitations, while reaping the practices’ myriad health benefits.

Mysteries & Thrillers
Thomas & Mercer. WHAT HAPPENED NEXT by Edwin Hill (March 17, $16.99 trade paperback). Twenty-five years after his father was accused of murdering a man, a true crime podcaster returns to his New Hampshire hometown to get the full story. [Of course I’m curious about the New Hampshire setting.]

Science
Mariner. THE BEASTS OF THE EAST: THE FALL AND RISE OF AMERICA’S EASTERN WILDERNESS by Andrew Moore (June 2, $32). Once on the brink of disappearing from the eastern U.S., elk, bison, wolves, and other large mammals are making an unlikely comeback, explains environmental writer Moore.

            And in PW’s January 5 issue’s

“Mysteries & Thrillers” section I was intrigued by this review: THE GARDNERS’ CLUB. Marnie Riches. Pegasus Crime, $28.95. (March). Riches (THE SILENT DEAD) shifts gears from gritty crime fiction to cozy mystery with this charming whodunit starring middle-aged widow Gillian Swanley, one of seven “senior lackeys” for England’s Chislehurst Green Insurance. Though Gillian hates her job, she can’t afford to quit . . . Gillian’s therapist suggests she try gardening as a way of channeling her anxiety, which leads her to the Bromley Botanists, a ragtag group of home gardeners who are gearing up for the annual Golden Trowel competition—the most prestigious local prize in community gardening. As the crew ramps up their efforts, they decide to spy on their competitors . . . The result is a diverting, feel-good puzzler.

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

BURNS NIGHT 2026

January 25, 2026

            Happy Burns Night, everyone!

            On January 23, 2022, I celebrated with this post:

In LAZY BEDS I wrote,

“Next Sunday was Burns Night, when she would as usual make Cock-a-Leekie Soup for supper.” This Tuesday is Burns Night. I must confess that unlike Snowy I’ve never made Cock-a-Leekie Soup, though I’ve studied the recipe in my copy of Theodora FitzGibbon’s TASTE OF SCOTLAND cookbook. Instead I always made my quick version I’d invented by adding chopped onions to canned chicken-noodle soup; of course I couldn’t resist naming it Mock Cock Soup.

            For several years the Corner House Inn in Center Sandwich had a Burns Night dinner and Don and I once went. There we had a splendid Scottish feast that started off with real Cock-a-Leekie Soup and included haggis, which we’d already sampled in Scotland so our taste buds were prepared.
            In HENRIETTA SNOW I mentioned Robert Burns when Snowy and Ruhamah were in Edinburgh and visited the Writer’s Museum, as Don and I did:
“The Writer’s Museum, Snowy thought, was obviously a place to be avoided because it would make her work seem so paltry. But hell, hadn’t she been looking at the grandiose Scott Monument, not that you could miss is it? . . . [She and Ruhamah] spotted a tiny opening into some sort of enclosed courtyard, and there it was, the Writer’s Museum, formerly Lady Stair’s House, an old mansion whose turrets and chimney pots contributed to a very imaginative effect, appropriate to the present purpose.

Hesitantly, Snowy followed Ruhamah inside. In the main room’s Sir Walter Scott exhibit she read how he had worked himself to death, writing to pay off the debt of his publisher. Robert Burns, a sign said, was upstairs, and with fear she climbed the stairs to face the emotions that seeing his work exhibited would churn up. But as she looked and read, what she felt was sick-at-heart pity when she learned that he had blithely sold the copyrights to his poems for next to nothing.”

            Back in 1959, when Don and I settled into our apartment in the Keene Teachers’ College married-students’ barracks we decorated the walls college-style with prints and posters, mainly Toulouse-Lautrec, which I’d mail-ordered. But for decoration in the bathroom we found ourselves thumbtacking up (there was no rule about not using tacks on the walls of the old firetrap) quotations that intrigued or amused us. I typed and tacked up an entire beloved poem, my favorite Burns poem, “A Red, Red Rose”:
O my Luve’s like a red, red rose
   That’s newly sprung in June:
O my Luve’s like the melodie
   That’s sweetly play’d in tune!

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass [of course in my mind it was “lad”],
   So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
   Till a’ the seas gang dry:

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
   And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
   While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
   And fare the weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
   Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

DH JANUARY 2026

January 18, 2026

              When Wanda and I left for Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center last Tuesday at 7 a.m. we were still in enough darkness to make the scenery black and white: black tree trunks against white snow, black branches against the lightening sky that held a crescent moon.
              Squam Lake was white, the ice snow-covered. By the time we reached Meredith Bay in Lake Winnipesaukee we could see that there were a half-dozen bob houses on the ice. We wondered when this year’s Meredith Ice Fishing Derby would be and hoped for thick ice. Because of recent rain, sleet, and “wintry mix,” things are iffy right now. A January thaw? (When I got home I Googled for the derby dates: February 7-8. I’ve written here about how Penny and I went ice-fishing with our father; we complained jokingly at the time about freezing to death because he didn’t have a bob house; later, fond memories of freezing on Lake Winnipesaukee’s ice.)
              As Wanda and I continued onward we realized we had serious commuter traffic coming at us from the opposite direction, a parade of headlights though the day was now certainly day—but cloudy.
The Route 104 Diner’s sign told us to:

EAT
MORE
PIE

              We’ll do our best!

              We were glad to see white stripes on a mountain defining ski slopes. Ragged Mountain Ski Resort? Weather cold enough for snow-making machinery?
              In Danbury I waved to the Danbury Country Store (“Serving NH Since 1875”). Onward we went, sunlight trying to break through. We were now on one of the routes designated a “Purple Heart Trail.” Cars sped up on a straightaway. We saw another date from the 1800s: The Grafton Cemetery, 1812. History seemed to be spinning around me through the centuries.
              Then we reached Canaan’s downtown and I thought of Dudley when I saw a house that was a muted version of his and Charl’s big Victorian-era home that Dudley had painted. In A BORN MANIAC I’d written Puddles’s description:

Raspberry sherbet, that was now the main color of this Victorian. Maybe the paint cans called it something else, but if you had ice cream in your blood you saw it as raspberry sherbet. Baby blue was the color of the upper part, the fish-scale shingles, eaves, turrets . . . The several porches were ivory and gold . . . and so were the doors window frames.

Sign: MOOSE CROSSING
Sign: DEER CROSSING

              In Enfield as usual I promised the Dunkin’ Donuts that we’d be there later.          
              And after my appointments at Dartmouth-Hitchcock for steroid shots in knee and shoulder we stopped at DD for the reward: Wanda chose a favorite breakfast sandwich and I chose two Old Fashioned doughnuts, my favorite because they remind me of the rare times when our mother made doughnuts; Penny and I helped. I reminisced about this during the happy car picnic. Wanda and I shared hash browns.
              We continued onward with a hazy sky. In Canaan, the snow was a clear white atop blue Cardigan Mountain.

Sign: MOOSE CROSSING

              And when we reached the Route 104 Diner the other side of the sign said:

WELCOME
2026

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

ENGLISH MUFFINS

January 11, 2026

       Last Sunday morning I turned on the kitchen TV and found myself in an episode of Guy Fieri’s DINERS, DRIVE-INS, AND DIVES show. His travels had taken him to Somerville, Massachusetts, to the Vinal Bakery where the owner, Sarah Murphy, was making their specialty: made-by-hand English muffins.

Then with a muffin Sarah proceeded to make a meatloaf sandwich, the meatloaf topped with American cheese and a tomato sauce livened with Worcestershire sauce (and to my delight she pronounced “Worcestershire” the way I was brought up to, the way the Massachusetts town of Worcester is pronounced, a la the “Wooster” in P.G. Wodehouse’s Bertie Wooster tales). There are twelve different sandwiches on the menu.
Sarah also makes scones, including jalapeno (!) scones.

When the episode ended, I Googled:
“Vinal Bakery is a neighborhood café in Union Square, Somerville, specializing in handcrafted English muffins and a variety of New England-style pastries. Our English muffins serve as the perfect base for our signature breakfast sandwiches.
“Be sure to visit Vinal General Store next door for lunch, soft-serve, shopping, beer & wine, and more!

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

NH LIBRARIES OF THINGS

January 4, 2026

       The January/February issue of NEW HAMPSHIRE MAGAZINE has arrived and when I saw in the table of contents an article about “Community: ‘Library of things’ collections let patrons borrow toys, games, tools, outdoor gear and more,” I went immediately to this, much amused.

Written by Megan Rogers, the article (titled “Borrow a Book or a Bubble Machine”) begins:
 
       “At the local library, you can find books. You can also find a paper shredder and a label maker to tackle organizing projects. A karaoke machine to liven up a birthday party. A puppet theater with six adorable wild animal creatures to check out when grandkids visit.
       “Welcome to the library of things.
       “Games, outdoor gear and kitchen and household items might not be the items you think of when you think of a library, but libraries across the state are increasingly adding unusual and useful items to their catalogs. These library of things collections allow patrons to try out new products before buying their own, borrow tools they’ll only need a  few times a year and pursue new hobbies.”
The article continues:
       “ . . .  Across the state, many libraries started their library of things collections with telescopes provided by the New Hampshire Astronomical Society. Through its library telescope program, the organization has been placing telescopes in libraries in New Hampshire and beyond since 2008.
       “That’s how the Nashua program got its start, with both a telescope and a ukulele donation from a local music group.
“Recently, library patrons started asking for more items to check out, says Jennifer McCormack, library director. In September 2024, the library of things collection launched with 26 items. Today, the collection features 51 items.
       “‘One of the most popular items in our collection is our cat. We have an animatronic cat. It’s our companion pet cat. It’s basically a toy cat. It purrs. It moves a little bit. It’s used with dementia patients,’ McCormack says. ‘Many, many families have borrowed it. That’s something that’s a good example of using the library of things for a try before you buy.’
        . . . “Howe Library in . . . the same town as Dartmouth College, has also lent out one non-book item since before its library of things collection was created: art prints.
       “For more than 30 years, the library has loaned framed art prints. Patrons can browse through two large wooden bins near the circulation desk.”

Art prints! This brought back to me the early 1970s when Don and I were living in Farmington, NH, and the library in nearby Rochester loaned framed art prints. After we discovered this we designated a location on one wall in our house for a different print each time we went to the library. And we laughed, remembering how we’d splurged on some Toulouse-Lautrec prints to decorate the walls of our apartment in the Keene Teachers’ College married students’ barracks. These prints weren’t framed; we thumbtacked them.

 

© 2026 by Ruth Doan MacDougall; all rights reserved

 

 

Privacy Policy

This website does not collect any personal information. We do collect numerical data as to traffic to the site, but this data is not attached in any way to our visitors' personal or computer identities. Those clicking through to other websites linked from this page are subject to those sites' privacy policies. Our publisher, Frigate Books, maintains the same policy as this site; financial information submitted there is not shared with either Frigate Books or ruthdoanmacdougall.com.