
From the Editor’s Desk
There’s a certain kind of magic to living in a small town that means that you just know that you’re going to run into three people you know during every trip to the grocery store before you even make it out of the produce aisle. The lettuce might wilt before you get home, but at least you’ll know who’s remodeling their kitchen, whose cousin’s dog is missing and what’s going into the old empty building on Prentice Street.