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I thought I was prepared for my first mud season in Vermont. I wasn’t. The pastor nominating committee tried explaining that New England’s unofficial fifth season wasn’t for the weak. (Or for a former Manhattanite, is what I think they were really getting at.) Was I ready for melting snow that turned dirt roads into Slip ‘n Slide? I was. Did I have good tires on my car? I did. What about boots? Did I own a sturdy pair? I didn’t.
September 2, 2016 The pair of shiny, ankle-high boy’s boots sat in my kitchen most of that day. I’d seen Paul Sinette standing outside the gate when I left my… Read more »