Jan Karon Mitford
Joan Medlicott Ladies of Covington
Philip Gulley Harmony
Jennifer Chiaverini Elm Creek Quilts
Alexander McCall Smith #1 Ladies Detective Agency
Debbie Macomber
Carlene Baumbich
Nicholas Sparks
Garrison Keillor
Ann B Ross
Dorothea Benton Frank
Katherine Valentine

A few days ago, Nick reopened the doors to Jodi’s Antiques Barn – an annual tradition and great indicator that, although snow can still be seen along the mountain pass to Franklin, spring has permanently arrived and the stores can open their windows and ready their summer awnings. The benches along Main Street as well as in the park are now being repainted to the unfortunate surprise of some residents who didn’t take note of the note below the obituaries in The Lumby Lines last week. For those who missed that section as well, the barber shop remains closed until Gabe’s estate is finalized. The portopottie responsible for Gabe’s demise has since been repaired and returned to the fairgrounds (#4 for those who may be superstitious). As requested by several residents after the eulogy, Gabe’s name will remain on the ballot for town mayor and will be given the first opportunity to speak at the candidate’s debate next month.

By the age of five (and some would argue much earlier), most children have not only conceptualized and directly applied the fundamental principles of a return on invest or, as all bankers and attorneys call it, an ROI. And this evening, All Hollows Eve, usually marks the coming of age for children to carefully discuss and calculate ways to maximize their return (candy) while minimizing their investments (the effort it takes to get to race across the lawn to the neighbor’s front door). And so children will naturally gravitate to Halloween’s heaven, the utopia of goblin night, the end-all and be-all of trick or treating: the zero-lot-line subdivision with a hundred homes, each with 2.4 kids (so you know they have great stuff) and 1.2 golden retrievers (who pees on the rug every time the door bell rings). Bean bag ladies and superman alike can collect more booty from an overbuilt development in thirty minutes than county kids could collect in two months. But then again, the rural adventures go far beyond the chocolate - it’s about catching the cow by the tail and riding it over to the next farm a mile away, or being given a caramel dipped Macintosh apple just pulled from the tree, or better yet, a warm homemade cobbler that’s not wrapped in cellophane. Those are the memories they will cherish as adults and that’s what I consider the best of all returns.

As many have read in The Lumby Lines, the first annual bathtub regatta on Woodrow Lake offered and unfortunate and quite forgettable series of events for participants and onlookers alike. For whatever reason, most residents assumed that the Styrofoam bats sold by Brad’s Hardware last week would, in fact, support and keep afloat most anything made of cast iron. Contrary to Brad’s sale sign, that didn’t prove to be the case and the laws of physics corrected the racers when they were knee-deep at the shoreline watching their entries sink like…well, cast iron. Who would have thunk.

With very little warning, hellacious winds accompanied by heavy snow swept over Lumby last week and the small town is still trying to recover. It’s said that not one resident had power during the two-day storm, but most everyone found their way to one (or many) of the numerous hot toddy parties being hosted by those who had enough foresight and cash to own an emergency generator. Perhaps the most frequented festivities were held at the home of Dennis and Gabrielle Beezer, who emptied the refrigerators at The Green Chile and offered a replenishing feast, going so far as to run a hundred foot extension cord to operate the margarita blender which was greatly appreciated by all. On the opposite side of town, road crews shoveled their way to the snowplows which had been inadvertently parked at the far end of the fairgrounds, whose Porto potties were frequented by many - as most everyone immediately outside town is on a well, flushing became a blessed treat once power was restored.

In Lumby, the leaves have long since fallen and Goose Creek, running from the west of town down to Woodrow Lake, is frozen along the edges. On especially cold nights that accompany a flurry of snow, Trout Pond appears to be solid, but Simon Dixon reminds all to wait several more weeks before ice fishing. The summits of the mountains are now well covered with several feet a snow and throughout Mill Valley, small trails of smoke can be seen rising from the chimneys of the numerous farms that dot the landscape. The cows are huddled, complaining mildly. But Main Street is a flurry of activity which began last night with the Christmas Parade and the lighting of the Lumby Christmas Tree (this year provided by Montis Inn). The procession of floats (farm tractors and school buses successfully camouflaged with brilliant lights and tinsel) was stalled for an hour when Mcnear's heard of eight reindeer decided at the corner of Farm to Market not to participate and scattered in all different directions. The members of Lumby High School Band, who had been struggling to play in the frigid air, quickly responded and wrangled all but two. And then Santa (who we all guessed to be Jimmy D this season) was lowered without incident from a crane in the town square and turned on the tree lights - a spectacular site (the tree, not Jimmy D, although watching him descend was oddly amusing). And now, with Christmas officially welcomed in Lumby, the town store owners are hanging wreaths from the doors and garland from the awnings and frosting their windows with powered snow. Lumby is once again transformed into a winter wonderland.

The fall foliage is spectacular this year, but we know winter is approaching quickly. All of the small boats have been pulled from Woodrow Lake, and the winds off the mountains have turned chilly, bringing the first frost of the season last night. Most townsfolk have harvested their vegetables, and what remained was ravaged by Mcnear’s herd of seven goats (clever escapees) that moved from backyard to community garden like four-legged locust, eating everything in sight. To combat the nip in the air, Jimmy D threw some logs in the tavern’s fireplace last night and almost burnt down the place – unbeknownst to him, a couple of raccoons had established a well-constructed house in his chimney during the summer. And so another change of season begins.

This evening, a good number of townsfolk came to the theater above The Lumby Feed Store to attend the premier showing of March of the Penguins which received an honorable 3-banana rating from The Lumby Lines last week. The critics were once again correct - the movie was great... so good in fact that few noticed the ruckus made by the livestock on the first floor. Some say that the cows were simply trying to respond to the baby penguins' calls - our very own National Geographics moment.

Wools just put a sale sign in their front window: red and yellow umbrellas are 30% off. Good thing, I suppose, since it's a balmy 82 degrees with blue skies over Woodrow Lake this morning... no rain in the forecast for at least 5 days. Chatham Press thanks Sugar Cookie for her fine editorial, and glad her Aunt Lisa loved the book - she must have good connections to get a galley copy before publication. Does Aunt Lisa work for a bookstore?