Browsing All Posts filed under »Torch Lake memories«

Letter from Katherine: Another wedding on Torch Lake

August 18, 2009

5

Katherine writes: On Saturday cousin Liz’s son John Evans and his girlfriend Marlana Verbeck got hitched. You may know John, he works at Barnes Park during the summer and in the winter he is in a PhD program in North Carolina. Marlana is studying to become a science teacher at the high school level. It […]

A wedding on Torch Lake

July 25, 2009

3

All week it rained. The weather widget moaned and predicted floods of biblical proportions. Last night thunder jolted the dogs into a barking frenzy. Up at Stone Circle Wendi and Terry Wooten pondered the backup plans for the Big Event. It has been a stressful time for the parents of the bride. But today the […]

Betty Beeby’s Shady Adventures and a nod to Log Cabin Day

June 30, 2009

0

First of all, I know you wonder why I have not written anything about the wonderful dinner held in honor of Betty Beeby last week. That is because I was not there, but playing Cinderella at my day job. I made up for it by interviewing Betty yesterday about her special evening, and sent most […]

Happy 125th birthday to Eastport Baptist Church

June 26, 2009

7

Linda Gallagher asked me to do a story on the 125th Anniversary of Eastport Baptist Church for the Antrim Review, so off I trotted to interview Jerry Troyer, the youthful pastor. I found him in the gym behind the church painting the walls.  (You know how it is when company’s coming.)  He showed me around […]

Letters from Katherine: Old Barns

June 3, 2009

4

Katherine writes: Old barns make me happy. Being an owner of an old barn myself, when I see them in a state of disrepair I feel for the people who own them. It’s expensive to keep them up and I wonder if there’s not a program to help owners of old barns? Old barns have […]

You never know what you’ll find in an old barn

May 25, 2009

3

While I was wandering around the King family’s orchards taking pictures of spring blossoms and swarming bees I ran into Betsy King, who was, as always, busy doing something.  (If we could bottle Betsy we would have no need for imported oil.)  On this particular occasion, she was clearing out the odds and ends that had accumulated […]