Sunday, January 29, 2017

Let Us Remember Who We Are

                                                       Photo: Paul E. Nolting

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Mary Tyler Moore

1936 – 2017

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Women's March on Washington

Photo: AP/John Minchillo

"The Constitution does not begin with, 'I, the president.' It begins with, 'We, the people.' So don't try to divide us. Do not try to divide us!"
— Gloria Steinem

Monday, January 16, 2017

Snow Removal Trashes Shrubs

We're one snowstorm into the season and the beleaguered Parcel 6 corner is in trouble again. Our snow removal contractor drove a plow up onto the corner, next to the Parcel 6 monument, crushing and uprooting the shrubs. The plow also dumped gravel from the road in front of the damaged plants (click photo to enlarge).

What can we say? We just hope repair and replacement doesn't take our management company FirstService Residential as long as it took them to replace the monument sign the snow removal contractor damaged last year—about 8 months.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

"Read, My Child, Read!"

In 2016 Congressman John Lewis received the National Book Award for March, co-written with Andrew Aydin and drawn by Nate Powell


by Claude McKay

Now the dead past seems vividly alive,
    And in this shining moment I can trace,
Down through the vista of the vanished years,
    Your faun-like form, your fond elusive face.

And suddenly come secret spring's released,
    And unawares a riddle is revealed,
And I can read like large, black-lettered print,
    What seemed before a thing forever sealed.

I know the magic word, the graceful thought,
    The song that fills me in my lucid hours,
The spirit's wine that thrills my body through,
    And makes me music-drunk, are yours, all yours.

I cannot praise, for you have passed from praise,
    I have no tinted thoughts to paint you true;
But I can feel and I can write the word;
    The best of me is but the least of you.

                            Photo: Vincent Hoban

Thursday, January 12, 2017

Congratulations, Vice President Biden

Today President Obama awarded Vice President Biden the nation's highest civilian honor, the Presidential Medal of Freedom, at a surprise ceremony at the White House. The president added that he was bestowing the medal "with distinction," an additional level of veneration that has only been given to three other recipients: Pope John Paul II, former President Ronald Reagan and former Secretary of State Colin Powell.

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

MLK Day of Service in the Mapleton Preserve

Join Friends of Princeton Nursery Lands on Monday, January 16, 2017, for a cleanup in the Mapleton Preserve on the National Day of Service honoring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. From noon to 3 pm volunteers will be clearing small trees, brush, vines and trash in the historic Mapleton Preserve. You are asked to bring any tools you may have, such as saws, clippers, loppers and rakes. Be sure to dress appropriately for the weather—work gloves, sturdy shoes, warm clothing and hats are recommended. For more information, visit the FPNL website or call 609-683-0483. Mapleton Preserve/D&R Canal State Park is located at 145 Mapleton Road in Kingston. (If using a GPS, use 145 Mapleton Road, Princeton 08540 as the address.)

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Thank You, Mr. President

Photo: John Gress/Reuters

Monday, January 9, 2017

Saturday, January 7, 2017


by William Carlos Williams

Again I reply to the triple winds
running chromatic fifths of derision
outside my window:
                                    Play louder.
You will not succeed. I am
bound more to my sentences
the more you batter at me
to follow you.
                                    And the wind,
as before, fingers perfectly
its derisive music.

Photo: Henk