This is just a sample of the wisdom that author and canine therapy pioneer Meg Daley Olmert will be sharing in a conversation with Craig Fuller at the Avalon on April 30th at 6 pm.  In short, Meg makes the point that people should not take their dogs for granted if they truly want to get the full benefit of these special creatures.

Make a plan to hear more about her work on how dogs are changing the lives of not only your average dog owner, but also how canine therapy is having dramatic results in treating men and women suffering from PTSD. And for the first time at the Avalon, it will be welcoming dogs (the well-behaved kind) and their owners in the main theatre, where there will be room for everyone.

Tickets are $25, and they can be purchased here or by calling the Avalon at 410.822.7299. Proceeds of the event will support the Spy and Avalon with their public affairs programming. Meg will be selling and signing her book after the event.

This video is approximately one minute in length.

Last week, my students participated in activities and discussions about safety, at home, in school, and the community. From reviewing how to safely cross the street to understanding what to do in an emergency, the children gained valuable knowledge to help them stay safe and confident in various situations. This program is designed by the Talbot County Health Department and is an important and effective tool for helping children face serious situations.

This year, the program went a step farther than the usual “stranger danger” warnings. A new addition focused on internet safety, including the impact of online games, cellphones, and social media. Students learned about the importance of protecting personal information, recognizing unsafe online behavior, and knowing what to do if something makes them feel uncomfortable.

As part of the safety lesson, students were asked to raise their hands if they know a “trusted person’s” phone number. One child out of twenty six knew that important phone number. Forty years ago, memorizing important phone numbers was a rite of passage and a requirement for kindergarten readiness. I can still recite the phone number from my childhood home, it has stuck with me all these years.

By 1994, my two eldest children had began driving and my husband and I thought having a cell phone would be valuable. It was a Motorola “Brick” flip phone. Making phone calls was its only capability. The phone number that belonged to that original phone was transferred to subsequent phones until just recently and every family member had that number memorized.

There is something so comforting about the memory of landline phones. The familiar ring throughout the house, the long, coiled cord stretched around corners, and the way conversations felt more intentional. If you missed a call there wasn’t any caller ID, just a bit of mystery.

Back then, children were actually taught phone etiquette, as if answering a call was a sacred duty. The polite response went something like, “General residence, this is Jenny speaking,” delivered with all the formality of a receptionist at a law firm. The phone was strictly off-limits during dinner, heaven help the kid who dared to reach for it between bites of meatloaf. If the phone rang after 10:00 p.m., everyone froze. It could only mean one thing: an emergency. No one let it go to voicemail (which didn’t exist yet anyway), you always answered, heart pounding, prepared for anything.

It was an exciting day when our clunky old rotary phones were finally replaced with a sleek, futuristic push-button model. No more spinning that dial like we were cracking a safe just to call Grandma. No more misdialing on the last digit and having to start all over again. The push-button phone felt like something out of Star Trek, you just pressed the numbers and boom, connection! We strutted around like we were living in the space age. It was progress, one satisfying beep at a time.

Years later, we called it progress when we finally ditched our last landline phone. We convinced ourselves that we didn’t need it anymore now that we had a new family mobile plan. Everyone had their own cellphone and the old landline, the kitchen phone, once the heart of our household communication, was unceremoniously unplugged and tossed aside like a relic from another era.

According to CNN Business, In recent years, there’s been a quiet but growing trend of people returning to landline phones, drawn by their reliability and simplicity in a fast-paced digital world. As cell phones become increasingly cluttered with apps, notifications, and constant connectivity, many are seeking the calm and clarity of a dedicated phone line. Landlines offer a kind of peace—no updates, no distractions, just a steady dial tone and the joy of undisturbed conversation. For some, it’s a nostalgic return to the days when phone calls had a sense of presence and intention. For others, especially in rural areas or during emergencies, it’s about practicality, landlines still work when cell towers go down or power cuts out. Whether for nostalgia, security, or the desire to unplug, the humble landline is making a quiet comeback, especially in Gen Z homes who are drawn to landlines for their vintage aesthetic.

There is a certain love for a landline phone, a deep, unspoken affection for its steady presence, its familiar ring, and the way it connected us not just to voices, but to moments, memories, and the comforting rhythm of home.

Kate Emery General is a retired chef/restaurant owner who was born and raised in Casper, Wyoming. Kate loves her grandchildren, knitting, and watercolor painting. Kate and her husband, Matt are longtime residents of Cambridge’s West End where they enjoy swimming and bicycling. 

The large, orangish and red jellyfish floating around the surface of our creeks and rivers are another remnant of the cold winter quickly becoming a memory.

Lion’s Mane jellyfish typically inhabit colder waters of the North Atlantic but, drifting with currents associated with colder than usual temperatures, they can make it into the brackish waters of the Chesapeake.

According to articles posted by the Chesapeake Bay Program and the Virginia Institute of Marine Science, Lion’s Mane jellyfish are the largest jellyfish on the planet. A winter jellyfish, they can grow in the wide ocean of the North Atlantic as large as, and even larger, than blue whales.  The size of their crowns has been measured up to six feet wide with tentacles greater than 100 feet long.

They show up in the Chesapeake, when conditions are right, in the late winter and early spring though they’re much smaller here than out in the ocean. Their sting is characterized as moderately painful, but are rarely reported because few people swim in local waters before they warm.

According to local watermen lore, the coloration has to do with their own version of spawning, after which they die and float to the bottom.  There, the spent jellyfish are occasionally brought up on oyster tongs late in the wild harvest season, or like now, on the bottom-lying baits of trotlines just being deployed with the April start of the crabbing season.

Dennis Forney has been a publisher, journalist and columnist on the Delmarva Peninsula since 1972.  He writes from his home on Grace Creek in Bozman.

In 1979, a group of Iranian militants stormed the U.S. Embassy in Tehran and took fifty two Americans hostage. It happened at a time of major upheaval in Iran after the Shah was overthrown and the new Islamic government took over. The hostages were held for 444 days which was a major source of tension between two countries that were once close allies. Despite efforts by President Jimmy Carter, the hostages were finally released in January 1981, just as Ronald Reagan was being sworn in as President.

The 1979 hostage crisis left a profound mark on me; for the first time, I felt a deep, personal anxiety about the state of the world and began to grasp how global events could ripple into my everyday life.

My father, a World War ll Navy veteran, often remarked in discussions about global affairs that he believed that a Third World country would be the catalyst for World War lll. I was a very young Navy wife with three tiny children, living in Coronado, California whose husband was deployed to the Persian Gulf. The Iranian Revolution, the hostage situation, and the oil crisis required increased U.S. military presence. I carried the weight of everyday life alone, as part of the sisterhood of Naval Officers Wives, we were constantly hoping and praying for the safe return of the men and women aboard the ships of the Seventh Fleet.

The fluctuation of gas prices and availability became (and still are) my barometer for the broader condition of the world. It is a fact that political instability in regions rich in oil resources can lead to concern about the security of oil supplies, triggering price increases. I passed my driving test in 1972 in Wyoming, very aware of the impact of gas prices. Wyoming is a significant oil producing state, ranking as the eighth largest crude oil producer in the United States. Living in an oil boom state felt like being swept up in a wave of prosperity. There was a sense of motion-new jobs and a buzz of opportunity in the air. Gas was cheap, 36 cents per gallon and people felt optimistic about the future. The economy seemed to be thriving and there was a great sense of possibility. It was a time when abundance seemed endless, and the energy of growth touched nearly every part of daily life.

To manage shortages during the gas crisis of 1979, California Governor, Jerry Brown implemented an odd-even rationing plan. Drivers with odd numbered plates could only “fill up” on odd numbered days and even numbered plates on even numbered days. What had once been a quick routine task turned into a lengthy ordeal. Fear hung in the air as we waited in endless lines, uncertain if there would be enough fuel to get through the week, or even the day.

I was in charge of writing the USS Ranger’s Officer’s Wives monthly newsletter. I would get first hand, de-classified information from the Captain’s wife about the movements of the ship and its crew. Learning about the six American diplomats that escaped capture and took refuge in the homes of Canadian Embassy officers made me very grateful for our close neighbors to the North. I was grateful that Canada took a huge risk by hiding the Americans in their homes and then granting Canadian passports to the Americans. The six Americans, posing as a Hollywood movie production crew scouting for a suitable filming location in Tehran, managed to flee Iran without a hitch. While the “Canadian Caper” improved Canada’s relations with the United States, it significantly strained Canada-Iran relations. The Canadian embassy staff were quickly evacuated from Iran, and the embassy was closed in 1980, due to fears of Iranian retaliation.

If history has taught us anything, true friends show up in a time of crisis. They don’t hesitate. They step up because it’s the right thing to do. Canada has been that friend to the United States for decades. Canada was the first country to send disaster relief to the U.S. after Hurricane Katrina and Canadian water planes have flown to California to help put out the wildfires.

Lately, I find myself feeling anxious about the state of the world. It seems like everyday brings new challenges; political unrest, economic uncertainty, and environmental crises. The constant barrage of bad news makes it hard to see a clear path forward. It’s as if the world is teetering on the edge. I am an optimistic person so is my f.e.a.r. (false emotion appearing real) just that, false?

I’ll continue to focus on positive thoughts, avoid the news, read great books, garden, walk my dog, ride my bike along the Choptank River, and increase my daily dose of Ashwagandha.

It was a nice day for a weekend drive to lunch. For many, Denton is a place they drive by, but it is increasingly a place to visit and explore. Sitting on the Choptank River; yes, I do mean the Choptank, the community provides a fine opportunity to explore food and beverages along with retail shops along Market Street.

We selected Caroline’s In Denton for lunch and were delighted with what we discovered.

First, the location in an older house, fully refurbished, gets your attention. The friendly, family feel hits any visitor immediately. The commitment to a “farm to table” approach is real and welcomed. And, the one restaurant offers two variations, “Caroline’s Table” for finer dining and “The Sidebar” for a more casual meal.

We began our dining experience with two cups of Crab Bisque that was wonderful

The Denton Double caught my eye with everything packed into the smashed burger coming from local sources

You can find a wide variety of offerings by chef Ken Zellers, beautifully photographed on the website for Caroline’s. It’s a place we certainly will visit again soon!

Only a short drive from Easton, the journey is well worth the drive!

Service dog training watching a Broadway theatre production

The Spy and the Avalon Foundation are teaming up this year to present a new live interview series featuring Spy columnist Craig Fuller in conversation with some of the Mid-Shore’s most interesting and thought-provoking individuals.

The series will debut with a timely discussion between Fuller and Meg Daley Olmert, acclaimed author of Made for Each Other: The Biology of the Human-Animal Bond. Together, they’ll explore one of the Eastern Shore’s favorite topics—dogs—and their extraordinary role in healing, especially for those coping with PTSD.

Here is a short one-minute clip of Meg for a future Spy interview talking about her work.

In a first for the Avalon Theatre, well-behaved dogs and their human companions are welcome to attend the event together in the main theatre. See below for details

This unique evening promises to be enjoyable for humans and canines alike. It celebrates that special bond that brings comfort, connection, and recovery to so many.

Join us for what promises to be a fascinating and heartwarming kickoff to the new series.

Tickets are $25, and they can be purchased here or by calling the Avalon at 410.822.7299. Proceeds of the event will support the Spy and Avalon with their public affairs programming. Meg will be selling and signing her book after the event 

Dogs are welcome

Guests are welcome to bring their dogs to the Avalon. The conversation will be held in the main theatre, with appropriate spacing for dogs to find a peaceful place to settle down. Prior to the beginning of the program, the Avalon will show dog-friendly video clips on the big screen for their audience, and free Milk Bones will be handed out. 

We expect adults who bring their pets to always have the dog on a leash. The dog owner also assumes responsibility for their pet’s behavior.

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In a world that often feels overwhelming, filled with stress and uncertainty, finding comfort and stability can be difficult. For me, that comfort comes with four legs, a wagging tail, and unconditional love. My dogs have always been more than just a pet — they are a lifeline, a source of emotional strength, and true companions through life’s ups and downs. The bond I share with my dogs has had a profound impact on my mental health, teaching me valuable lessons about patience, love, and the importance of connection.

Our little French Bull Dog, Fanny is going on sixteen years old, she’s the final member of our “four pack.” We had Chuckie, an English Bulldog, Bogey, a Boston Terrier, Ruthie, a French Bulldog and Fanny. After Ruthie’s death, we talked about bringing a new puppy into our family but we had concerns about the impact on Fanny. Would another dog be a good idea? Time passed and we became comfortable with having just one dog. Then one day last fall, there was a photo on the Dorchester County Animal Control website of a little black dog. This dog “spoke” to me. Without delay, we made an appointment to meet this dog.

The “meet and greet” was as expected, the dog was very excited and nervous. I knew immediately that this little girl was going home with us. She sat in my lap with her head on my chest in the car on the drive home. We learned that she was 3-4 years old and had come from a “hoarder” breeding situation in the D.C. area. Her skin and ears were a mess and she hadn’t been fed properly. Her once floppy ears had been cropped, crudely, with stitches protruding in several spots and she had just weaned a litter of puppies. Every experience for the first few months was new to “Cookie.” Her skin has healed with a wild salmon and sweet potato diet and she loves her healthy blueberry and apple training treats. “Cookie” has become a treasured member of our family, her exuberant personality is a daily source of joy.

One of the most powerful aspects of having a dog is the unconditional love they offer. No matter how hard my day has been or how low I might feel, my dogs greet me with excitement and affection. Their love is pure and without judgment, providing a sense of acceptance that is often hard to find elsewhere. This consistent emotional support creates a feeling of safety and reassurance, knowing that I am never truly alone.

Scientific studies have shown that interacting with dogs can increase levels of oxytocin — the “love hormone” — and reduce cortisol, the stress hormone. Simply petting my dogs or sitting quietly beside them helps to calm my racing thoughts and lower my anxiety. Their steady, calming presence reminds me to breathe, slow down, and be present in the moment.

Perhaps the most profound way my dogs have supported my mental health is through difficult moments. On days when sadness, stress, or loneliness feels overwhelming, my dogs are always there. They sense my mood, offering a gentle nudge or curling up next to me without needing words. This quiet, steady companionship provides a grounding presence, reminding me that I am not alone and that healing takes time.

In a world that often feels chaotic, my dogs have always been my anchor — a constant reminder that love, companionship, and healing can come from the most unexpected places.

Kate Emery General is a retired chef/restaurant owner who was born and raised in Casper, Wyoming. Kate loves her grandchildren, knitting, and watercolor painting. Kate and her husband, Matt are longtime residents of Cambridge’s West End where they enjoy swimming and bicycling. 

My alarm clock radio was playing “If You Could Read my Mind” by Gordon Lightfoot on the first Monday of daylight savings in 1970. It was April 27, spring in Wyoming. It was eerily dark and quiet, except for the wind, at 5:30, (really 4:30). My English class on Utopias began at 7:00 so I was the first and only one up in my family.

My morning beauty routine consisted of taking out the ten, large orange juice cans that were pinned on my head, brushing my teeth, washing my face, moisturizing, and swiping the mascara wand across my lashes. I parted my hair down the middle and pulled it into a tight pony tail. My outfit had been carefully chosen the night before. The dress code in Casper schools had been amended while I was in junior high, permitting girls to wear pants, jeans even, but I chose my “baby doll” style mini dress with “hot pants” and brightly colored tights. My shiny, chunky heeled boots completed the ensemble.

Leaving the house at 6:30, I felt the full, literal force of the proverb; “it’s always darkest before the dawn.” Without the moon, it was pitch black and freezing as I headed out on my six block walk to school. Thankful for the street lights and porch lights, I tiptoed around patches of newly drifted snow. My boots were made for show, not the work of walking on icy sidewalks. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the lights of my school, this first walk of Daylight Savings was the scariest and most treacherous ever.

“Rainy Days and Mondays,” by Gordon Lightfoot was playing on Pandora when I awoke at 5:15 (really 4:15) on Monday, March 10, 2025. I hadn’t slept a wink, I was anxious about missing my alarm. My husband and dogs were peacefully sleeping, our normal wake up time was an hour away. My chickens were out of sorts, their schedule had been working for six months. It had been light enough in the morning for several weeks to actually see my chickens without a flashlight. On the first Monday (and every day that week) of daylight savings, it was really tricky walking to the back of my garden to feed the girls, I didn’t see them because they were sound asleep.

In a letter to the editor of the Journal de Paris, Benjamin Franklin jokingly proposed that Parisians could save money on candles and oil by waking up earlier in the morning and making use of natural daylight. Daylight savings was fully adopted during World War l to conserve fuel. By setting the clocks forward in spring and back in fall, people can take advantage of longer evening daylight, reducing the need for artificial lighting and saving energy.

The effectiveness of daylight saving has been debated for decades. Modern studies show that energy savings are minimal. Research shows that the change in daily routines may lead to higher energy consumption overall. Additionally, daylight savings time has been linked to negative health effects, such as sleep disruption and increased risk of heart attacks and accidents immediately after the time change. Though it may provide more daylight for evening activities, the overall benefits remain mixed and controversial.

Daylight Savings interrupts our natural circadian rhythm. Sleep deprivation due to losing that hour in spring, leads to difficulty concentrating. Studies also show that morning light exposure decreases the risk of seasonal affective disorder. Lack of sunlight in the morning can lower serotonin and dopamine, affecting mood and mental health.

Daylight savings wreaked havoc with my health this past week by disrupting my sleep and leaving me tired and off-balance for days.

For those concerned about fourteen year old me walking to school alone in the dark, my memory of being scared was only about falling – not being attacked or kidnapped. The only real threat in being out at night or that early in the morning was freezing to death. I don’t remember many of the walks afterward, probably because my parents started driving me to school until the sun rose before six thirty.