Sally’s Blog
Buster
I can’t write about Eastham and life at Nauset Haven without including Buster. Though he was also our family dog, whenever I was home, especially when I walked around the pond, he was mine. My friend, my confidant, my always ready companion and listener. (With just a...
Planet Bubble
Here’s Planet Bubble! My photograph has won a ribbon! 4th place in the Color Waterscapes Category, at the annual International Photographic Exposition at the San Diego County Fair. Normally I don’t name photographs but titles are required when submitting to this...
Remembering Memorial Day
The Stars and Stripes . . . American Patrol . . . Oh, those great old marches! And the memories that play right along with them . . . National Emblem . . . The Invincible Eagle. . . Semper Fidelis . . .Classics by John Phillip Sousa and his compatriots. As I listen,...
In the Box
In the Box As I flipped the calendar over to the April page, a memory leaped to mind. Oh, now that was one of the best gifts I ever received . . . a brown-paper-wrapped carton, addressed in my father’s handwriting, stuffed into the mailbox at the foot of our...
Tasting the Apple
Recently I watched as a new friend (we’d just been introduced by a mutual friend), typed in www.sallybuffington.com for the first time—and there were the familiar apples, in the upper left hand corner of the home page. “That’s it!” I said as I saw my name, logo, and...
I Wanna Be . . .
Normally, my seventh period class furnished a quiet end to the school day, but not today. From my desk on right hand side, waiting for the final bell, I was more or less listening when a major interruption breezed in. It was several of my classmates, laughing and...
Instrumental
7:45 A.M. Ready for the day, I walk into the kitchen and there where I left them drying last night, are three graduated though un-matched pans. Oh, it’s Father Bear, Mama Bear, and Baby Bear. The old faithfuls! Ready for yet more service—no rest for the weary around...
First Christmas Tree
“Let’s go out in the woods and cut our own Christmas tree!” December 1957, Eastham, Massachusetts. I was eleven. After years of two-week vacations on Cape Cod, which I’d always considered a magic summer kingdom, my parents and I had moved—to Cape Cod! We were just...