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November 22, 2025

Centreville Spy

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Spy Poetry: In the Winter of My Sixty-Seventh Year by Susan Browne

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In the Winter of My Sixty-Seventh Year

I feel the cold more
I stay in bed longer
To linger in my dreams
Where I’m young
& falling in & out of love
I couldn’t imagine then
Being this old     only old people
Are this old
Looking at my friends I wonder
Wow do I look like that
Today I wore my new beanie
With the silver-grey pom-pom
& took a walk in the fog
I thought I looked cute in that hat
But nobody noticed     maybe a squirrel
Although he didn’t say anything
When was the last time I got a compliment
Now it’s mostly someone pointing out
I have food stuck in my teeth
Did my teeth grow     they seem bigger
& so do my feet     everything’s larger
Except my lips     lipstick smudges
Outside the lines or travels to my teeth
Then there’s my neck
The wattle     an unfortunate word
& should have never been invented
These winter months are like open coffins
For frail oldsters to fall in
I once had a student who believed
We can be any age we want
In the afterlife
I’m desperate to be fifty
Six was also a good year
I saw snow for the first time
At my great-uncle’s house in Schenectady
My sister & I stood at the window
I can still remember the thrill
Of a first time     a marvel
Life would be full of firsts
I met my first love in winter
He was a hoodlum
& way too old for me     seventeen     I was fifteen
I could tell he’d had sex or something close to it
He had a burning building in his eyes
He wore a black leather jacket     so cool & greasy
Matched his hair     he broke up with me
Although there wasn’t much to break
All we’d done was sit together on the bus
Breathing on each other
It was my first broken heart
I walked in the rain
Listening to “Wichita Lineman”
On my transistor radio
I need you more than want you
Which confused me but I felt it
All over my body
& that was a first too
O world of marvels
I’m entering antiquity for the first time
Ruined columns     sun-blasted walls
Dusty rubble     wind-blown husks
I’m wintering     there is nothing wrong with it
A deep field of silence
The grass grown over & now the snow

Susan Browne’s poetry has appeared inPloughshares, Poetry, The Sun, Subtropics, The Southern Review, Superstition Review, Rattle, New Ohio Review, B O D Y, American Life in Poetry, and 180 More, Extraordinary Poems for Every Day. She has published three books of poetry, Buddha’s Dogs, Zephyr, and Just Living. Awards include prizes from Four Way Books, the Los Angeles Poetry Festival, the River Styx International Poetry Contest, The Fischer Poetry Prize, and the James Dickey Poetry Prize. She received a fellowship from the Provincetown Fine Arts Work Center. She has also collaborated to create a word/music CD. Her third collection, Just Living, won the Catamaran Poetry Prize. Her fourth collection, Monster Mash, is forthcoming from Four Way Books in 2025. She lives in Northern California. This poem is posted here with permission of the author.

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Lucca is Fifteen! By J.E. Dean

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Way back in 2011, Lucca arrived at our home, a beautiful goldendoodle with a coat the color of well-creamed coffee. She came to us with an oversized nose that we assumed she would grow into and enough energy to power a small city. 

In the early days, we did not walk the dog—she walked us. She house-trained herself in a few weeks, displaying an ability to communicate that we sometimes found lacking in humans. 

Lucca evidenced an unlimited interest in every smell in our neighborhood. At times, she pulled aggressively on her leash as she sought to explore neighbors’ yards. (Not all our neighbors shared our appreciation for goldendoodles or, any other dog, for that matter.)

As the months went by, Lucca’s energy and curiosity grew. She made friends with nearly every other dog in the neighborhood, even ones that growled at her. The exception, which we have never understood, is collies. She hates collies the way that most of us hate racism. 

Lucca was born with wanderlust, but unfortunately with a strain that periodically shut down her brain. We assumed she loved us, even though she made a beeline for any door or gate inadvertently left open. She ran to explore the world outside the barriers that we were keeping her from. 

And when I say ran, I mean it. Lucca, guided by her big nose, sniffed every telephone poll, mailbox, and a lot more. When we chased her, she ran joyously in the opposite direction. She did this repeatedly until we started to discuss the strategy of going back into our house and waiting for Lucca to tire and come home on her own.

Unfortunately, there was not a single instance where Lucca came home on her own. Usually, we would resume our search after a short break and eventually find that a neighbor had caught Lucca. How did they catch her? Once Lucca got tired and overheated enough, she sought water, sometimes after rolling around in the mud. On several occasions, Lucca took the liberty of cooling down (and bathing) in a neighbor’s swimming pool. Fortunately, the neighbor loved dogs as much as we do.

As the years have gone by, Lucca has slowed down. She grew from 13 pounds to around 57 today. She also developed a number of ailments, including several noncancerous growths that now hinder her walking. No longer is she able to leap onto chairs and sofas or into the back seat of our car. Instead, she stands patiently in the right spot until one of us lifts her up or, in the case of the car, lifts her out of the car and gently onto the pavement.

Lucca no longer runs away. We still don’t fully trust her, but I now undo her leash at the end of her walks once we near our front door. Lucca casually follows me into the house every time. Her days of exploration are over.

Friends sometimes ask whether we loved the puppy Lucca more than the mature dog that now spends many hours a day resting. We love them both.

Our 15-year-old Lucca is getting old but is even a better companion today than in 2011. While her eyesight is deteriorating, her ears seem to be compensating. She listens to us. When we tell her it’s time for bed, she goes to bed. And when we tell her its time for a Greenie and a bone, she transforms herself for a moment into the eager, excited puppy that entered our lives so many years ago.

Lucca is a good dog.

J.E. Dean writes on politics, government goldendoodles, and other subjects. A former counsel on Capitol Hill and public affairs consultant, Dean also writes for Dean’s Issues & Insights on Substack.

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Ballroom Dancing By Jamie Kirkpatrick

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There is an attic at the top of the stairs of my mind. I don’t go there very often because it’s musty, full of cobwebs, odds and ends, boxes of faded photo albums, and trunks of old clothes that no longer fit. But all this chatter about a new ballroom for the White House sent me up into that attic to see what I could find. I rummaged among my memories and finally found what I was looking for: my old dance card from Mrs. Burgwin’s Dancing School…

I was in sixth grade when my mother signed me up for dancing school at the Twentieth Century Club in Pittsburgh with the legendary Mrs. Burgwin. I have no idea why she did that. My family wasn’t all that social, but maybe Mom figured a few lessons in manners and the social graces would be good for her baby. I was not at all enthusiastic, but since several of my school mates had also been press-ganged into Mrs. Burgwin’s service, I decided to make the best of it. 

Every other Friday night for several weeks, I was thrown into the back of the family car, face washed and hair combed, necktied, suited, and white gloved, and off I went to Dancing School. There were two instructors. Mrs. Stewart was the Assistant Instructor; she was young and pretty, and she looked like Mary Tyler Moore on the Dick Van Dyke Show. But it was Mrs. Burgwin who was the undisputed Mistress of Dancing School. In stark contrast to Mrs, Stuart, she looked like Dame Maggie Smith’s version of Granny on Downtown Abbey. She dressed like her, too, and she was adamant we should learn how to waltz, fox trot, and cha-cha. There certainly weren’t any lessons in the jitterbug, tango, or twist because Mrs. Burgwin thought those dances were the devil’s playground.

Each week, the boys and girls—or, as Mrs. Burgwin insisted on calling us, “young gentlemen” and “young ladies”—were assigned partners. Mrs Stewart (who once danced in the arms of Arthur Murray!) and her partner would then gracefully demonstrate the proper steps while Mrs. Burgwin watched from the sidelines, making sure there was no monkey business on the dance floor. Proper etiquette was the order of the day, and Mrs. Burgwin was there to enforce the appropriate rules of the road and to administer rebuke to anyone who dance-stepped out of line. She scared the bejesus out of us, but our parents were grateful to her for doing God’s work.

Anyway, that was my introduction to ballroom dancing. The thing is, I don’t think I ever put any of Mrs. Burgwin’s lessons into practice. A few years after Dancing School, there was the occasional Deb Party, but I don’t remember much dancing going on. Surreptitious swigging, certainly, but never a waltz, fox trot, or cha-cha. By the time I got to college, no one ever waltzed, fox trotted, or cha-cha’d anymore—we either danced like sweaty lunatics, or we clung to each other in dark corners—so I guess all those dance lessons went for nought. That was when I decided to store Mrs. Burgwin and her dance lessons up in my mental attic, but all these years later, when I saw that the East Wing of the White House was being demolished in order to make way for a gigantic gilded ballroom, I went back up into the rafters of my mind to find my white gloves and to dust off my old dancing shoes.

Not!

Friends: our government has been shuttered for nearly a month. People are losing their jobs, their access to health care, their livelihood. Free speech is no longer free. Funding for important research is disappearing like rain in the desert. Schools are closing. Innocent people are being rounded-up and sent away to unspeakable places. And now carrier groups and fighter squadrons are on their way to Venezuela. Anything to distract us from the larceny taking place right before our eyes. But don’t worry: soon, those among us deemed light enough on their feet will be invited to the Trump Ballroom to dance the night away while the Marine Band strikes up “Nearer My God To Thee.” 

Mrs. Burgwin—wherever you are— I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t waltz, fox-trot, or cha-cha to this madman’s music.

I’ll be right back.

Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer who lives on both sides of the Chesapeake Bay. His editorials and reviews have appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Washington College Alumni Magazine, and American Cowboy Magazine. His most recent novel, “The Tales of Bismuth; Dispatches from Palestine, 1945-1948” explores the origins of the Arab-Israeli conflict. It is available on Amazon and in local bookstores. His newest novel, “The People Game,” hits the market in February, 2026. His website is musingjamie.net.

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Let’s Talk about Authenticity By Maria Grant

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Lately I’ve been reading articles that claim the reason Trump won the election is because voters saw him as authentic. You know, he speaks his mind. So, I guess when you wax poetic about Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt’s lips, or tell Princess Kate of Wales and Attorney General Pam Bondi, they’re beautiful, or tell a reporter she’s ugly and stupid, we now consider these comments to be authentic behavior. Such behavior used to be called rude, crude, and singularly unattractive. Plus, objectifying women was typically not a cause for celebration. 

The original Mona Lisa is authentic. The Declaration of Independence is authentic. Bruce Springsteen is authentic. Frankly, I don’t think there is much of anything authentic about Donald Trump. Here’s why.

There are those who claim Donald Trump is an authentic great businessman. No, he isn’t. The New York Times claimed that over the years Trump inherited at least $413 million from his father. His companies filed for bankruptcy six times. Before he became president in 2016, Trump was involved in more than 4,000 legal cases including battles with casino patrons, real estate lawsuits, personal defamation lawsuits, housing discrimination lawsuits, and business tax disputes. 

Then there are those who say Trump looks authentic. No, he doesn’t. His hair color changes weekly going from blond to white to strawberry blond and involves complicated weaves, blow drying, and strong styling products. Add to that tanning booths, orange makeup, white circles around the eyes, Botox under the eyebrows, chin makeup that ends abruptly, suits with padded shoulders, and those ultra long silk ties. There are those who opine that he disappears for two days each month to tend to various beauty regimes. And then there are those who state that all this focus on his “look” smacks of strong insecurity and massive vanity issues. 

Some supporters have stated that Trump is an authentically great golfer. No, he isn’t. Read the book Commander in Cheat by Rick Reilly, who accuses Trump of moving the ball to obtain better positions, taking multiple mulligans (re-do’s), and claiming club championships with questionable validity.

On numerous occasions, Trump has told the public that he has excellent taste. No, he doesn’t. His signature style has been labelled “dictator chic.” In a short period of time, he has turned the Oval Office into a tacky gilded embarrassing nightmare. And stay tuned for this absurd ballroom harking back to shades of Versailles. So much for simplicity and understated elegance.

Sociologists claim that authentic people forge their own path. They do not seek validation through things. They reserve judgment until all facts are in. They are generous and treat other people with respect. They are not driven by their own egos, and they are not hypocritical. 

Trump checks zero of those boxes. 

Trump’s supporters state that Trump is the ultimate outsider. That’s why they like him. There is ultimate irony in that statement given he is the ultimate insider trader (especially when it comes to crypto) and also has the inside track with a host of CEOs—think Apple, Amazon, Microsoft, Micron—the list goes on. 

Trump’s supporters also say Trump is unfiltered, and they find that refreshing. Such unfiltered talk can soon become dangerous and result in damaging rhetoric. Democratic norms are cast aside and replaced with totalitarian proclamations. Wait, isn’t that already happening?

 In the play All’s Well that Ends Well, Shakespear wrote, “No legacy is as rich as honesty.”  Yes, Trump is enriching himself during his presidency, but it has nothing to do with honesty and authenticity. Instead, he has thrown accountability, respect, truth, and decency out the window, and replaced them with a gaudy vulgar, and phony veneer—just like the gilded gold in the renovated Oval Office. 

Maria Grant was principal-in-charge of the federal human capital practice of an international consulting firm. While on the Eastern Shore, she focuses on writing, reading, music, and nature.

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USDA Won’t Shuffle Funds to Extend SNAP During Shutdown, in About-Face from Earlier Plan

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The U.S. Department of Agriculture said in a memo Friday the agency’s contingency fund cannot legally be used to provide food assistance benefits for more than 42 million people in November, as the government shutdown drags on.

The position is a reversal from the department’s earlier stance, according to a since-deleted copy of the USDA’s Sept. 30 shutdown plan that said the department would use its multi-year contingency fund to continue paying Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, or SNAP, benefits during the ongoing shutdown.

SNAP has about $6 billion in the contingency fund — short of the roughly $9 billion needed to cover a full month of the program, putting November benefits in jeopardy.

Because of a stalemate in Congress over a stopgap spending bill, the government shut down on Oct. 1 without new SNAP funding enacted.

The memo, which was first reported by Axios on Friday, said states would not be reimbursed if they use their own funds to cover the cost of the benefits.

“There is no provision or allowance under current law for States to cover the cost of benefits and be reimbursed,” the memo says, while also noting that “the best way for SNAP to continue is for the shutdown to end.”

Discrepancy with shutdown plan

The memo also says the contingency fund is meant for natural disasters and similar emergencies, not for a lack of appropriations.

But USDA’s Sept. 30 contingency plan contradicts that and appears to greenlight the use of SNAP’s contingency fund during a lapse in funding.

“Congressional intent is evident that SNAP’s operations should continue since the program has been provided with multi-year contingency funds that can be used for State Administrative Expenses to ensure that the State can also continue operations during a Federal Government shutdown,” according to the plan. “These multi-year contingency funds are also available to fund participant benefits in the event that a lapse occurs in the middle of the fiscal year.”

USDA’s contingency plan is no longer online, but is accessible through an internet archive.

After providing States Newsroom with the memo Friday afternoon, USDA did not immediately respond to a follow-up inquiry about the discrepancy between Friday’s memo and its contingency plan.

In the memo, USDA said transferring money toward SNAP from other sources “would pull away funding for school meals and infant formula.”

The agency said it has shuffled funds to cover several nutrition programs during the shutdown, including the Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants, and Children, or WIC, as well as the National School Lunch Program, School Breakfast Program, and the Child and Adult Care Food Program.

Dems call on Rollins to tap into fund

U.S. Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins said last week the government would run out of funds to deliver November SNAP benefits as a result of the ongoing shutdown.

Friday morning, U.S. House Democrats, like nearly all of their Senate counterparts and the Republican chair of the Senate Appropriations Committee, urged Rollins to not only use the contingency fund, but to reprogram other money to cover a $3 billion shortfall.

“A potential lapse in benefits would be felt by Americans of all ages and affect every corner and congressional district in the country,” according to the letter from more than 200 House Democrats.

In a separate letter, 46 Senate Democrats sent to Rollins on Wednesday, voicing concerns that USDA told states to hold off on sending in SNAP benefits to be processed for November.

“We were deeply disturbed to hear that the USDA has instructed states to stop processing SNAP benefits for November and were surprised by your recent comments that the program will ‘run out of money in two weeks,’” according to the letter. “In fact, the USDA has several tools available which would enable SNAP benefits to be paid through or close to the end of November.”

The chair of the Senate Appropriations Committee, Republican Susan Collins of Maine, also urged Rollins in a Thursday letter to “consider all available options in accordance with federal law to ensure that this vital nutrition assistance continues, including the use of contingency funds and looking at the viability of partial payments or any transfer authority you may have.”

Benefits could be slow even if a deal reached

States have been told by the agency to hold off on submitting SNAP benefit requests to processing centers. Food banks and pantries are already bracing for the increased need, including in Iowa, where more than 270,000 Iowans rely on SNAP each month.

However, even if Congress immediately reached a deal to end the shutdown, the time needed to process the payments and make them available for recipients means SNAP benefits would likely be delayed. State officials have warned SNAP recipients of the possibility of delays.

In West Virginia, officials said delays are expected and told residents to seek assistance at local food pantries. Roughly 1 in 6 West Virginia residents rely on SNAP each month.

Legal requirement cited

Sharon Parrott, a White House Office of Management and Budget official during the Obama administration who now leads a left-leaning think tank, said in a Thursday statement that USDA is legally required to use its SNAP contingency funds.

Parrott, the president of the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, said the multi-year contingency fund is “billions of dollars that Congress provided for use when SNAP funding is inadequate that remain available during the shutdown — to fund November benefits for the 1 in 8 Americans who need SNAP to afford their grocery bill.”

Parrott said the Trump administration could use its legal transfer authority, just as it did with WIC funding, to “supplement the contingency reserves, which by themselves are not enough to fund families’ full benefits.”

by Ariana Figueroa, Maryland Matters
October 27, 2025

Maryland Matters is part of States Newsroom, a nonprofit news network supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity. Maryland Matters maintains editorial independence. Contact Editor Steve Crane for questions: [email protected].

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Waterfowling from the Indigenous Perspective

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An immersive, multi-artist installation by Jen Wagner and Josepha Price 

Opening November 14 at The Market at Dover Station, in conjunction with the 2025 Waterfowl Festival

Artists Jen Wagner (left) and Josepha Price (right), co-creators of “Waterfowling from the Indigenous Perspective.” 

Artists Jen Wagner and Josepha Price announce the opening of their new, ongoing exhibit space at The Market at Dover Station in Easton, Maryland. Their collaborative installation, “Waterfowling from the Indigenous Perspective,” opens Friday, November 14, in conjunction with the 2025 Waterfowl Festival. 

Born from the artists’ shared passion for storytelling through art, the exhibition combines 3-D and multi-media works that invite audiences to look beyond familiar imagery of Maryland’s Eastern Shore. It explores the deep cultural, environmental, and spiritual connections between Indigenous peoples and the natural world—especially through the lens of waterfowling.

The exhibit will include authentic artifacts, handmade Indigenous crafts, and new works by Price, Wagner, and guest artists Buzz Duncan and Margery Goldberg. 

A key feature of the exhibit is a speaker and video series amplifying Indigenous voices from the Chesapeake region. 

Featured speakers include: 

– Chief Donna Abbott, representing the Nause-Waiwash Band of Indians, who will discuss the tribe’s enduring traditions of stewardship, community, and balance with the environment. – Chief Clarence Tyler, representing the Accohannock Indian Tribe, who will share insights about the tribe’s ancestral ties to the waterways of the Delmarva Peninsula and the role of waterfowl in sustaining cultural identity. 

Public talks with Chief Abbott will take place Nov 14th at 5:00 pm and Chief Tyler will present on Saturday, November 15 at 2:00 PM, followed by open Q&A; sessions. 

“This project allows us to provide a level of depth and education that complements the Waterfowl Festival in a meaningful way,” says Josepha Price. “We’re looking at waterfowling not just as a sport or pastime, but as an enduring connection between people and the natural world—one grounded in respect, reciprocity, and survival.” 

Jen Wagner adds, “Josepha and I have worked together on many projects, and over the years we’ve talked about creating spaces where art tells more complete stories. I’ve outgrown the idea of simply showing work. I want to use art to build experiences—layered, collaborative, and rooted in the history and identity of this place.” 

The exhibition will also include a video series of interviews with local descendants of area tribes and large-scale peel-and-stick wallpaper panels by artist Richard Fritz, adapted from his landscape paintings to create an immersive backdrop. 

“The Market at Dover Station provides the perfect space for this kind of storytelling,” says Wagner. “It’s an opportunity to connect creative expression with education and community.” 

ABOUT THE ARTISTS 

Josepha Price is an Easton-based multimedia artist whose work has been featured in galleries and exhibits throughout Maryland. Of Cherokee descent, Price brings deep cultural insight and technical mastery to her projects. Her recent installation at The Ivy Café in Easton highlights her ability to merge traditional motifs with contemporary materials. 

Jen Wagner is a prolific mosaic and public artist based in Easton, Maryland, with installations and exhibitions shown internationally. She has curated galleries, pop-ups, and museum installations, and her work explores themes of connection, memory, and shared human experience. Wagner also hosts “My Life As” on WHCP Radio, where she interviews individuals about the stories that shape their lives. 

The Market at Dover Station, located at 500 Dover Road, Easton, is an upscale art and design market featuring found goods, original art, and local craftsmanship. 

“Waterfowling from the Indigenous Perspective” opens November 14 and will remain on view throughout the Waterfowl Festival weekend. 

For more information, visit www.jenwagnermosaics.com or follow @jenwagnermosaics and @josephapriceart on Instagram.

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So Happy Together: Waterfowl and AAM Team Up Again this Fall

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The Academy Art Museum and the Waterfowl Festival have been creative partners since 1971, a collaboration so long-running that Director Charlotte Potter Kasic jokes they’ve been “married” since the beginning. This year, she and Festival Director Deena Kilmon are bringing the partnership back to its roots by filling the AAM with true “Masters Gallery” works, high-end sporting art from national galleries like Copley Auction House, the Sportsman’s Gallery, and Red Fox Fine Art in Middleburg, Virginia.

They’re also adding something new: two pop-up shows that link past and present. One, in partnership with Salisbury University, highlights historic waterfowl carvings and paintings, including a rare collection of swans. The other presents contemporary wildlife-inspired art, from Spencer Tinkham’s abstract feather carvings to Tina Affiero’s glassworks that blend art and science. It’s a festival moment that honors tradition while keeping the art — and the story —alive in a very new way.

This video is approximately four minutes in length. For information about this year’s Waterfowl Festival, please go here, and for the Academy Art Museum, use this link.

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Dinner Table Debates By Katherine Emery General

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My formative years unfolded during a time of great social unrest in our country. The world was changing, loudly, messily, and all at once. Protests filled the news, songs carried messages of defiance, and questions about fairness and equality seemed to hum in the air like static. Inside our home, my parents were quietly living out their own version of that social revolution. They believed in equality, not just in theory, but in the daily workings of our family life.

My mother, especially, stood apart from most women I knew. She managed her own finances, investing in the stock market, paying all of our household bills, and keeping credit cards, a checking account, and a car in her own name. That independence wasn’t a rebellion for her, it was simply the way she lived. My father respected her completely, and their marriage was a partnership, one I took for granted as normal until I grew older and saw how unusual it was in that era.

Our dinner table was the center of our home, a place of conversation, debate, and discovery. Topics ranged from local news, like sheep ranchers shooting bald eagles to protect their flocks, to larger issues like the civil rights movement and the growing demand for women’s equality. My parents encouraged us to think, to form our own opinions, and to defend them with reason. Books were woven into these conversations, their themes often spilling over into the real world around us.

It was during one of those years that I read Tess of the d’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy. The book still grips me in a way few others had. Tess was a character unlike any I had encountered, innocent yet strong, victimized yet resilient. Her world was mercilessly unfair, and Hardy’s sympathy for her, his insistence on her purity of spirit despite society’s condemnation, stirred something in me.

When I wrote my paper on the novel for my English class,  I argued that Thomas Hardy was an early feminist. I believed he saw Tess not as a cautionary figure, but as a mirror reflecting the cruelty of a world built on male privilege and rigid moral codes. Hardy’s condemnation of the double standards of Victorian England; where a man’s sins were forgivable but a woman’s were ruinous, felt both historic and hauntingly current. I saw echoes of those same double standards in the world around me, where women were still fighting to be heard, to be taken seriously, to be allowed control over their own lives.

Tess’s suffering made me think about my mother. Though their circumstances were worlds and generations apart, both lived in societies that placed invisible boundaries around women. My mother had quietly pushed against those walls, making her own way, refusing to ask permission. She might not have called herself a feminist, but her actions spoke for her. Reading Hardy’s novel gave me a language for what I had witnessed growing up, it named the struggle, the injustice, and the quiet courage it took to live with integrity in a world that didn’t always allow it.

I remember the ending of the novel vividly, Tess’s tragic acceptance of her fate, her calm resignation in the face of inevitable punishment. I was devastated, angry even. It seemed unbearably unfair that such a pure-hearted character should be crushed by a society so blind and hypocritical. Yet, in that anger, something awakened in me: the realization that literature could illuminate truths that polite conversation often avoided. Books could challenge the world.

That idea, born somewhere between my mother’s quiet strength and Hardy’s fierce compassion, stayed with me. It shaped the way I approached life, teaching, and even the way I raised my own children. I came to see that empathy, once awakened, is a kind of moral compass. And it often begins with stories, stories like Tess’s, that make us see injustice not as an abstract concept but as a fault in the human spirit.

Looking back, I can trace so much of my understanding of equality, dignity, and resilience to those early years, the dinner table debates, the newspaper headlines, and the paperback copy of Tess of the d’Urbervilles that I read, notes written in the margins, until the spine cracked. I learned that ideas have power, but compassion has endurance. Hardy taught me that literature can stir the conscience. My mother showed me that courage can be quiet. Together, they formed the foundation of who I have become.

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. 

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Pairing Herbs, Food, and Wine with Chesapeake Bay Herb Society

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Spencer Garrett and Denis Gasper will discuss pairing herbs with food and wine at the society’s Nov. 20 meeting.  Both are past presidents of the society, and both love to cook.  They will share their accumulated knowledge (and maybe some samples) that night.

The society usually meets the second Thursday of each month at 6 p.m. at Christ Church, 111 S. Harrison Street, Easton.  However, this month’s meeting has been moved up because the building will be used during the Waterfowl Festival.   Meetings include an herbal potluck dinner, a short business meeting, and a presentation on an herb-related topic.  The theme for the November meeting is herbs of Bosnia and Herzegovina (paprika, bay leaf, parsley, dill, and cumin).

CBHS was formed in 2002 to share knowledge of herbs with the local community.  The group maintains the herb garden at Pickering Creek Audubon Center.  For more information, call 301-452-2813 or visit the society’s Facebook page.

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