Lycanthropes probably wouldn't be interested in the monthly Full Moon Hikes at Mt. Abram in Greenwood.

That Santa. He's a giver.

The man labors all year in an isolated factory in a frigid land for the simple purpose of delivering a bit of gift-wrapped glee to the children of the world.

Pre-made wreaths are for the weak. Store-bought treats: an indicator of yuletide inefficacy. And fake Christmas trees?

'Twas 21 days before Christmas, and all through the Old Port
Some creatures were stirring - a fat, jolly sort.

On Thursday, thank yous will be generously passed around the Thanksgiving table like so many bowls of made-from-scratch stuffing.

The distance between Earth and the Kuiper belt (a ring of debris extending between 30 and 50 AU from the Sun, like a soap ring around the bathtub of our solar system) is pretty colossal.

I'm making complaints like an old person today.

I don't usually press my hand onto the hellishly hot stove top burner when I'm cooking dinner.

That's partly because I rarely cook dinner.

I'm sorry to say it - and don't mean to offend any Girl Scout troops, marching bands, beauty queens, aspiring politicians or go cart-driving Shriners - but parades have lost their luster.

The breaking waves at Gooch's Beach in Kennebunk are a good place for surfer spotting.