Of Pilgrims, Progress, Power I begin reading Nathaniel Philbrick’s Mayflower with the hope that the ending is going to be a slightly different one. I resist picking up this work for a long time because I know it isn’t going…
There’s just something alluring about having dinner in a low-ceilinged dining room with peanut shells on the floor and a fireplace and ancient-looking wooden beams holding everything in place and rippled views from the antique glass windows. That this place—Purdy’s…