Posts made by author 'Paige O. Roberts'

I recently conquered a lifelong fear of mine—well, a fear I've had at least as long as I've had a driver's license—and that was driving myself into the ever-intimidating city of Boston. I scored tickets to a concert at Fenway Park, but my initial excitement was quickly replaced by crippling anxiety over making the drive. For weeks, I'd start to get excited for the concert only to have it replaced by a pit in my stomach as I thought about the twists and turns of Boston streets. My brain even tossed in a few stressful driving dreams to top it all off, but the day finally arrived, so I put on my bravest face, loaded up the GPS, and made the trek.

I have to say, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Did I take...

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Last month, I noticed a massive groundhog hanging out in my yard. I've seen groundhogs around in the past, but usually an infrequent sighting here and there, as if my yard served as a pass-through rather than a home. This one, however, was lying on the ramp leading into my shed, sunning herself. As soon as she noticed me, she scurried under the shed, which I presumed to be the location of her burrow. The next day, there she was again, all flubber and fur laying out in the sun. This went on for a while, until one day she was flanked by two other groundhogs, much smaller than her. All three retreated to their burrow once they noticed me, and that is when I realized I didn't have just one groundhog living under my shed, but an entire groundhog family lived unde...

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If there is one thing New Hampshire has a lot of, it's trees. Pine, maple, oak, birch, apple, poplar, ash; the list goes on. Some are more desirable than others, but they're abundant all the same. When I first moved into my house, the previous owner had cleared the field, and the majority of the trees were off in the distance, with the exception of a few around the house. A few years back, a couple of pine trees popped up near the edge of the yard. Then a few more. Then a lot more. It didn't take long for them to grow quite tall, creating somewhat of a curtain between the yard and the rest of the property. Now there are so many, it's hard to even remember what it looked like before they were there.

On the backside of the house are a...

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People often ask me if I loved growing up in northern New Hampshire. Of the many times I've been asked this question, I have to assume my answers have varied at times, especially depending on my age when asked. Most recently, when someone asked me this, I paused for a moment before answering. I gave it some thought, and then, I told them the truth: No, I didn't always love growing up here.

Sometimes I liked it, sometimes I maybe even loved it, but there were certainly times I didn't, too. I think it's safe to assume every young person feels that way from time to time, no matter where they live, which is why I often feel conflicted as to how to answer that question. On one hand, when I was very young, I didn't know anything else, and there...

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Allow me to set the scene: I am home alone, on my day off, doing some cleaning. It's the end of the day, with the sun hanging on for maybe another thirty minutes or so, and I decide to start a load of laundry. It's a bit windy outside, but nothing too wild or crazy. No rain, no thunder.

I head downstairs into the basement to start my laundry, and as I'm filling the washing machine, the lightbulb in the lamp above my head starts to flicker. I think to myself, I really hope that bulb doesn't go out; I don't think I have any extras. But, I am not too worried about it, as the light that illuminates the rest of the basement is just fine—or so I think.

As I'm loading the last part of my laundry into the washing machine, everything suddenly goes dark. I...

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