Columns

"I was so happy to see that the City of Healdsburg has given us a chance to suggest an official City flower, plant or tree as representative of Healdsburg," writes reader Mary Kelley. "I was especially pleased to see that all of the options are California Native Plants. There are five different plants from which to choose, and the sixth option is a category which encompasses a variety of species of Oak trees."

Editor’s Note: This month we welcome Gary Quackenbush to the Windsor Times. This is the first in a series of monthly columns, written by Gary, highlighting the many congregations to be found in Windsor’s faith-based community.

Bagel Bites When Thomas gets off the bus he has three questions, usually in this order: “Where’s Posey?” (Posey is our cat); “Is the mail here yet?” (Thomas considers it his job to retrieve any mail we receive); and “What’s for dinner?” My answers are usually...

I was 13 when my big brother (age 24) decided he wanted to play golf. He didn’t want to learn golf mind you, he just wanted to play golf. It was trial and error. Mostly error. Being a novice hacker, he didn’t want to flail...

Designed by Malcolm Sayer, this automobile is occasionally described as a “mid-engine.” It was the fastest production car of its time. Its top speed was 150 mph. With independent front and rear suspension, 4-wheel disc brakes and an innovative chassis, this sports car showcased advanced technology and styling....

Seeing teachers last week picketing in downtown Sebastopol and other teachers filling seats in front of school board meetings in Windsor, Cloverdale and Healdsburg reminds us we are beginning another school budget cycle. And this being Valentine’s Day also reminds us that our most cherished sweethearts are our children. There’s no better treat we could give our children and their teachers than more support for local education.

Let’s face it — none of us are getting any younger these days. Then again, who wants to? Counting our ages and tracking our generational footprints has become baffling. Old truisms, social definitions, markers for achieving adulthood and official government census numbers all need updating. If 70 is the new 50, and 35 is the old 25, how are we supposed to know how to act?

When I was younger, I used to walk to the dusty farmstand from the Prestons’ house on Dry Creek Road. We’d eat a peach on the way back, the warm, sticky juice running down our cheeks and arms marking summer’s beginning in quiet streaks of gold.