The Hughes Memorial Union

Category: From The Local

  • Euphoria from The Local

    Euphoria from The Local

    You know what the good thing is about being sick?

    It’s as I get better euphoria can set in. 

    I wish I could find the euphoria without first experiencing the depths of despair but this week I found myself overwhelmed with the temperature outside or the clouds in the sky or the color of the fall leaves. 

    I found myself mulching the gardens at the Hughes Library and hanging pictures in The Union.

    Suddenly, the weight of Lyme was lifting and was being replaced with energy and optimism and smiles. 

    It got me thinking about a This American Life I was listening to last Tuesday. 

    In it, the character exclaims: “All important things are invisible”. 

    Feeling better is invisible.

    Hope is invisible.

    Happiness is invisible. 

    I felt so good about that statement that I actually got tears in my eyes. 

    So, here we are on another Friday and I invite you to join me in my euphoria at The Local as we watch our vendors arrive with food and bread and key lime pie as Pam is back from vacation. 

    I invite you to participate in our continued half price freezer sale of Frank’s meatloaf or Empresette’s dumplings or Vicky’s chicken curry dinner.

    I invite you to take a stroll down to the library and see the mulch and look at the astounding color of the fire bush and know that Lindsay’s grand opening of The Cornwall Whale is tomorrow from 3-6pm where I hear rumors of oysters. 

    Ahhh. 

    Oysters.

    Yes, please.

    See you soon.

    Love,

    Libby

  • Kindness from The Local

    December 5, 2025

    In Colorado, where 39 degrees is definitely not the same as 39 degrees in the northwest corner, the people are different. 

    The waving is the same. 

    Even at intersections.

    But, as if it was possible, there is even more kindness.

    On Thanksgiving day my daughter asked us to come to a favorite spot in Lyons to hold a ceremony for her wife who died a year ago. 

    We collected rocks and sticks and set about finding a spot to gather and came upon a ring of stones at the water’s edge.

    Someone or ones had been to this spot before and, apparently, had a ceremony of their own.

    There was a rock painted with initials.

    There was a vase and dried grass and sticks.

    We circled the altar and added our offerings and took deep breaths. 

    But here’s the thing. 

    We were not in a secret spot. 

    There were people arriving who saw us. 

    They let us sing and tell stories.

    They let us be.

    Their kindness made our unbearable sorrow soften. 

    My husband and I were in Colorado to help my daughter rebuild a front porch.

    That led to building some shutters and then shelves in the bathroom, shoe molding in the bedroom, a new handrail up the stairs and a new paint color in the arch to the living room.

    Needless to say, the most difficult  jobs fell to my husband.

    I’m an excellent sous chef, as we have discussed.

    A fantastic clean up crew and assistant surgeon but when it comes to the measuring and cutting, well, that is left to the professional. 

    The results were astounding.

    Our kindness made a difference. 

    Even now.

    With an impact driver and screw gun and paintbrush and caulk gun we helped my daughter lighten her load.

    Just like those people who saw us in our grief circle.

    It got me thinking that maybe kindness is one way to create some light at the end of this tunnel.

    A way to lighten each other’s load. 

    I think we should try it. 

    It certainly can’t hurt.

    See you soon.

    Love,

    Libby

  • Our village from The Local

    The other day my husband and I were driving in Sharon on Lover’s Lane. 

    The place was a mess.

    There were cans of beer and soda and mixed drinks strewn from one end to the other. 

    My husband announced that he was going home, getting his truck, gloves and a garbage can and heading back to pick everything up. 

    But here’s the good news.

    In the time it took us to run our errand, get back home, gather the supplies and get back to Lover’s Lane someone had picked up all the cans. 

    I got out anyway and picked up any garbage I could find but the long and short of it is that Lover’s Lane went from a garbage dump to pristine in approximately one half hour.

    And that got me thinking about community because as you know from my notes all over our building, it takes a village.

    It takes a village to keep Lover’s Lane pristine. 

    It takes a village to keep our building clean and tidy and make sure we have no food waste in the bathroom garbage or we turn the heat down after a yoga class. 

    It takes a village to support the myriad of vendors at The Local or gather a group of friends together and attend Belinda’s magic show or shop at Lindsay’s Cornwall Whale and see the little library on Lower River Road come to life. 

    It takes a village to make sure that the West Cornwall Public Library, the mothership of The Local, The Union, The Wellness Collective and the Hughes Memorial Library, stays afloat financially and continues the work of creating new and creative programming for the northwest corner in our little village of West Cornwall. 

    Every vendor, yoga teacher, shop keep or magicienne gives 10% of sales back to the mothership. 

    And, at this year’s end, the time of year when you are thinking about where to put your good money to help a cause, I invite you to join our village as a donor. 

    You can add a donation at The Local and, boom, use your credit card at check out.

    You can send us a check made out to the West Cornwall Public Library and mail it to PO Box 4, West Cornwall, 06796.

    You can go on our website hughesmemorialunion.com and click the donate button.

    Together we have created a strong, pristine village filled with talented vendors who feed us and entertain us and keep us laughing.

    Together we can do anything.

    Even in one short half hour. 

    See you soon.