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Oysterville Daybook Archives

Christmas Toys

Christmas Toys

I can hardly remember a Christmas when I haven’t received a toy of some kind.  I’m talking real toys here, not adult toys like cars or boats or whatever the equivalent for a grown woman might be.  And, I’m talking tiny toys – the sort that can...

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Of Hidey Holes and Secret Spaces

Of Hidey Holes and Secret Spaces

As we were admiring the new shingles going up on the Wachsmuth house the other day, Tucker invited us for a tour of the inside.  We hadn’t been in since it was all two-by-fours and studs and fire-stops, but now the sheet rocking has been completed...

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When it comes to motherhood…

When it comes to motherhood…

When it comes to motherhood, I want to be just like Abby when I grow up.  Abby is my second cousin once removed, granddaughter of my mother’s first cousin Barbara Williams Espy, daughter of Jim and BG Hook (my second cousin), wife of Dan Ronco, and...

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“The vorpal blade went snicker-snack…”

“The vorpal blade went snicker-snack…”

We met three of the Red House Cousins on the road the other day – Grandma Beeg, with young Silas and Ginger, coming back from The Great Steamer Clam Hunt.  First came Beeg, striding forth toward home with a third-or-so bucket of clams.  Not far...

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Danielle, the Horse Girl!

Danielle, the Horse Girl!

Danielle Wachsmuth was in town for a few days.  She was with her mom and dad and her little sister, Gabi.  And her horses.  “Only two,” her dad told me – a rather large stuffed one and a hobby horse.  His tone of voice implied that at home in...

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Sharing a Ride through Oysterville

Sharing a Ride through Oysterville

As I stood at the gate talking with my neighbor Tucker the other afternoon, we heard the clip-clop of horse hooves coming up the street.  Our conversation stopped and we both turned, watching and waiting.  I’m sure we were both smiling.  Such a...

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Back to the Future

Back to the Future

Frank Wolfe and Kathleen Sayce came through our door Friday evening looking like the proverbial cats who had swallowed those unfortunate mice.  “We have a presentation to make to Sydney,” Frank announced.  And from behind his back he pulled a large...

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Trick or Treat (or Trauma?)

Trick or Treat (or Trauma?)

Even though I look back on the Halloweens of my childhood with a sort of nostalgic glow, I can’t really think of much I enjoyed about the holiday.  Those were the days of dressing up and going around the neighborhood trick-or-treating with a group...

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The Handoff

The Handoff

  These days, one of the topics of conversation among us of the older generation concerns the village children and grandchildren.  Most of them, of course, live elsewhere, but in the summertime, especially, they come to Oysterville.  They come to...

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Lovely Little Linda

Lovely Little Linda

Last week my new friend Linda came calling.  She arrived at my door wearing a bright pink hat and new pink shoes to match.  She brought with her a copy of Dear Medora and her Grandma Stephanie.  Shyly she asked for my autograph. Linda has just...

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“I’s not a little boy…”

“I’s not a little boy…”

     Now and then I wish I had a direct line to heaven so I could ask one of my forebears a question about the past – usually some mundane detail that no one ever bothered to talk or write about.  Seldom have I wished to make such call so that I...

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Why did our chickens cross the road?

Why did our chickens cross the road?

Three Eggs!     Day before yesterday was our friend Owen’s seventh birthday.  He had a party and went to a Mariners’ game with his family – his choice of how to spend his day.  It was perfect!  The Mariners even won for him.  But what Owen really...

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