Spring in New England

Posted on March 20, 2026March 20, 2026 by Dusty Roads

Ah Spring: A Season That Arrives When It Feels Like It

Daffodils are a sure sign spring is upon us

A Poem From the Past

Every now and then, a memory from childhood pops up and refuses to leave. Recently, I found myself thinking about a play we did in school — a bunch of hillbillies, a lot of flannel, and one truly unforgettable poem. It went something like this:

Spring has sprung,  
The skunks air out.  
Spring has sprung — just sniff about.  
Mating time is drawing near,  
You can smell it in the air.

Not exactly Shakespeare, but it captured something very real about spring in New England: you don’t need a calendar to tell you it’s coming. Your nose will do the job just fine.

The Calendar Says Spring… But New England Has Other Plans

Technically — officially — scientifically — spring begins on March 20 this year. The equinox arrives, the sun crosses the celestial equator, and somewhere far away, flowers bloom on cue.

But here in New England?
We don’t buy it.

Around here, spring doesn’t start when the calendar says so. Spring starts when the Red Sox take the field at Fenway Park. That’s the moment the region collectively thaws, stretches, and decides maybe — just maybe — winter is finally loosening its grip.

And since Opening Day at Fenway is April 3 this year, I guess true spring will be running a little late. Again.

Local Wildlife Confirms the Delay

If you need further proof, just ask the skunks. They’ve already begun their annual “perfume tour,” leaving unmistakable reminders that love is in the air — whether we want it or not. Nothing says spring quite like cracking open a window for fresh air and immediately regretting it.

Even the Cats Know Spring Is a Moving Target

Banner and Balboa have their own opinions about the season. Banner has already begun his warm‑weather routine of turning on lights with his teeth — a helpful service at 3 a.m., apparently. Balboa, meanwhile, has resumed his post by the sliding door, watching for birds, squirrels, and anything else that might signal the world is waking up.

They’re not convinced it’s spring yet either. And honestly? I trust their instincts more than the meteorologists.

Spring Will Get Here… Eventually

So while the rest of the country celebrates the equinox, we’ll be here in New England waiting for the crack of the bat, the roar of Fenway, and that first warm day that doesn’t immediately get followed by a frost warning.

Spring comes late here.
But when it finally arrives, it’s worth the wait.

The Great Photo Tagging Project

Posted on March 19, 2026March 19, 2026 by Dusty Roads

Scout

Rediscovering a Blog That’s Been With Me for Years

I’ve started a really big organizational project. No, I’m not talking about cleaning out my closet. I’m talking about Arounddustyroads. I’ve had my blog for many years now. It’s grown and hiccuped its way along since around 2011. I honestly don’t remember my very first post, but I do remember being a little scared. Was I really going to share my thoughts and feelings with the big wide world?

Over the years I’ve set it aside for other things, but I always seem to come back to it. Reading older posts is like reminiscing with an old friend — familiar, comforting, and sometimes a little surprising. (“Did I really write that?” Yes. Yes, I did.)

When Your Media Library Turns Into a Digital Attic

Somewhere along the way, my media library turned into a full‑blown archaeological site. I’ve now got over 10,000 photos tucked in there, and finding just the right picture to illustrate a post has turned into a major scroll‑fest. It can take hours. By the time I find the photo I want, I’ve forgotten what the post was even about.

That’s when it hit me: this system is not sustainable. Something had to change.

Learning the Magic of Photo Tagging (A Little Late)

When I first started blogging, I didn’t even know you could tag your pictures. So most of my library is… well… let’s call it “mysterious.” Untagged. Unidentified. A giant pile of “good luck finding anything in here.”

So with help from my AI coach, I finally rolled up my sleeves and started going back through all of these photos and tagging them properly. And let me tell you — this is not a weekend project. This is a year‑long expedition.

Working Backward and Finding Hidden Gems

I’m working backward, starting with the most recent photos while the memories are still fresh. I figure if I’m diligent, I might actually get through the whole thing before the next ice age.

But here’s the surprise: it’s actually kind of satisfying. Every time I finish a page of photos, it feels like I’ve restored a tiny corner of my digital world. I’m rediscovering trips I forgot I took, meals I forgot I cooked, and sunsets I forgot I captured. It’s like flipping through an old scrapbook — only this time, I’m labeling the pages so future‑me doesn’t have to guess what she was looking at.

One Tag at a Time

It’s a big job, but it’s worth it. And when I’m done, finding the perfect photo for a post won’t feel like an archaeological dig. It’ll be quick, easy, and maybe even fun.

Do you tag your photos, or are you sitting on a digital mess of your own? I’d love to hear how you keep your pictures organized — or if you’re braver than I am and just scroll until something looks right.

Cast Iron 101: Easy Care for a Hard‑Working Pan

Posted on March 18, 2026March 18, 2026 by Dusty Roads | 4 Comments

Skillet Deep Dish Pizza (Pepperoni of course)

Skillet apple Pie

Cast Iron Care: What Every Skillet Lover Should Know

If you’ve followed my recipes for more than five minutes, you already know I’m a cast‑iron girl through and through. Skillet pizzas, cornbread, seared chicken, cobblers — if it can be cooked, it’s probably been in my pan.

And because I use mine so much, I get a lot of questions about how to care for cast iron. So let’s talk about what actually matters, what’s just old folklore, and the one thing you should never do… which I learned the hard way. (Twice, actually — but we’ll get to that.)

🥘 Myth: Cast Iron Is Delicate

Skillet Lasagna

Reality: It’s basically indestructible.

Cast iron is iron — heavy, tough, and built to outlive us all. I have pieces that have survived generations, yard sales, rust, and one dramatic move where a skillet somehow ended up in a snowbank.

And speaking of snowbanks… once upon a time, a well‑meaning roommate overheated oil, panicked when it caught fire, and launched my cast‑iron pan — still flaming — straight into a drift outside. The pan survived. My blood pressure? Less so.

If that doesn’t prove cast iron’s durability, nothing will.

🧼 Myth: You Can’t Use Soap

Reality: You absolutely can.

A little mild soap won’t hurt your seasoning. That polymerized layer is bonded to the metal — it’s not going to wash off with a drop of dish soap.

If you’re worried about lingering flavors, a quick baking‑soda scrub (2 parts baking soda, 1 part water) neutralizes odors without harming the surface.

Skillet Meat Loaf ( My absolute favorite)

🍅 Myth: Acidic Foods Will Ruin It

Reality: Short cooks are fine.

A quick pan sauce with wine? Totally okay. A tomato‑heavy braise simmering for hours? Maybe choose another pot. But everyday cooking won’t hurt a well‑seasoned skillet.

🔥 How to Season Your Skillet (The Simple Way)

Wash with hot water (and soap if needed).
Dry completely — water is the real enemy.
Rub on a tiny amount of neutral oil.
Wipe it out until it looks like you wiped it all off.
Heat it until it just begins to smoke.
Cool. Repeat if you want a deeper layer.

The more you cook, clean, dry, and lightly oil it, the better it gets.

🧽 How to Clean Cast Iron After Cooking

Remove food bits (soap is fine). (or scrub with salt)
If the flavor was strong, give it a baking‑soda scrub.
Rinse and dry thoroughly.
Add a whisper of oil, wipe it out, and warm it for a minute.
Store with a paper towel between pans if stacking.

❌ The One Thing You Should Never Do

Put it in the dishwasher.

Ask me how I know.

That same helpful roommate once tossed one of my favorite skillets into the dishwasher thinking they were doing me a favor. It came out gray, dull, and rough — like it had aged 40 years in one cycle. I’ve re‑seasoned it multiple times, and while it’s usable, it has never quite returned to its pre‑dishwasher glory.

Between the flaming‑snowbank incident and the dishwasher debacle, I’ve learned one thing:
Cast iron can survive almost anything… but your roommates might not.

Skillet Corn Bread

❤️ Final Thoughts

Cast iron isn’t fragile. It’s a workhorse. Use it for sweet, savory, and everything in between. Clean it, dry it, oil it lightly, and keep it out of the dishwasher. Treat it well, and your grandchildren will still be flipping pancakes in it someday.

Skillet Roast Chicken Breasts

St. Patrick’s Day in New England

Posted on March 17, 2026March 17, 2026 by Dusty Roads

St. Patrick’s Day in New England: Where Tradition, Parade Routes, and a Whole Lot of Green Collide

Why St. Patrick’s Day Hits Different Up Here

In most parts of the country, St. Patrick’s Day is a fun little holiday—wear something green, maybe have a beer, maybe listen to a fiddle tune or two. But in New England? It’s practically a season. The Irish roots run deep here, especially in Boston, where St. Patrick’s Day isn’t just a date on the calendar—it’s a cultural event, a family tradition, and sometimes a political lightning rod.

Growing up around here, you learn early that March 17th is not to be taken lightly. The parades, the music, the food, the crowds, the weather (which can be anything from sunshine to sideways sleet)—it’s all part of the charm. And even when the parade gets tangled up in local politics, the spirit of the day never really fades. New Englanders are nothing if not persistent.

A Little History, Because We’re Nothing If Not Thorough

St. Patrick himself wasn’t Irish by birth, but he became the patron saint of Ireland after spreading Christianity across the island in the 5th century. Over time, March 17th became a day of remembrance, celebration, and—eventually—green everything.

But here’s the twist: St. Patrick’s Day as we know it is actually more American than Irish. Irish immigrants in cities like Boston and New York turned the holiday into a public celebration of identity, resilience, and community. The first recorded St. Patrick’s Day parade in the U.S. happened in the 1700s, and Boston has been proudly carrying the torch ever since.

Today, the South Boston St. Patrick’s Day Parade is one of the biggest in the country. Bagpipes, marching bands, veterans’ groups, dancers, floats—you name it, it’s there. And yes, every few years the parade organizers and the city find something new to argue about, but that’s just part of the tradition at this point. If New Englanders aren’t debating something, are we even awake?

The New England St. Patrick’s Day Experience

There’s a certain rhythm to the day around here:

Corned beef and cabbage (which, fun fact, is an American invention—but don’t tell anyone’s grandmother).
Irish soda bread that ranges from “heavenly” to “doorstop,” depending on the baker.
Green everywhere, from hats to hair to the Charles River (Chicago dyes theirs; we just let ours stay its natural shade of questionable).
Bars packed by noon, because it’s tradition, not poor planning.
Weather roulette, because March in New England likes to keep us humble.

And through it all, there’s this wonderful sense of community—neighbors greeting each other, families gathering, and everyone claiming at least a little Irish heritage for the day.

A Toast to March in Massachusetts

With the Ides of March behind us and yesterday’s Plymouth Rock post already up on the site, St. Patrick’s Day rounds out a surprisingly festive stretch of mid‑March. It’s a reminder that even in the tail end of winter, New England knows how to celebrate—loudly, proudly, and with plenty of green.

And after today’s festivities, who knows where March will take us next?

Plymouth Rock: The Legend, the Letdown, and the Lovely Town Around It

Posted on March 16, 2026March 15, 2026 by Dusty Roads

The Most Overrated Tourist Attractions? Let’s Talk About Plymouth Rock

So I saw another list, but we’re not going to dig through it all. I’m just going to pick and choose a few choice comments. The list was The U.S. Tourist Attractions That People Regret Visiting the Most. As a travel enthusiast, I felt it was my duty to share a few of my thoughts.

Since I’m in Massachusetts and only a couple of towns over from Plymouth, I thought I’d chat about Plymouth Rock.

What was on the list? Well, without taking the time to bore you with details, here’s the lineup:

Times Square, NYC, New York
Skywalk, Grand Canyon, Arizona
SeaWorld, Orlando, Florida
Salem Witch Museum, Salem, Massachusetts
Hollywood Walk of Fame, Los Angeles, California
Broadway, Nashville, Tennessee
Duval Street, Key West, Florida
Pat’s King of Steaks, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Roswell, New Mexico
Ocean City Boardwalk, Ocean City, Maryland
Mystery Spot, St. Ignace, Michigan
Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Harbor, Massachusetts
Navy Pier, Chicago, Illinois
Calico Ghost Town, San Bernardino County, California
World of Coca-Cola, Atlanta, Georgia
Fisherman’s Wharf, San Francisco, California

So now you have the whole list—let me talk about Plymouth Rock.

Plymouth Rock: The Legend, the Letdown, and the Lovely Town Around It

As a kid, the idea of Plymouth Rock is irresistible. It’s practically mythological—the rock where the Pilgrims supposedly stepped ashore in 1620. You picture something massive, dramatic, maybe glowing with historical importance. At the very least, something you could stub your toe on.

Then you finally go see it and… well… it’s a medium-sized rock in a granite gazebo, sitting behind iron bars like it’s in time-out. You stand there thinking, This? This is the rock? And yet, thousands of people come every year to have the same moment of quiet confusion.

But here’s the twist: the story behind the rock is far more interesting than the rock itself. And Plymouth—thankfully—is full of genuinely lovely places that make the trip worthwhile.

The Real Story Behind the Rock (Which Is Better Than the Rock)

No Pilgrim ever mentioned a rock. Not in 1620, not in 1621, not ever. The first written reference appears more than a century later.
The legend began in 1741, when an elderly church elder insisted he remembered hearing from earlier generations that this was the landing spot.
The rock has been moved several times, and each move made things worse:
- 1774: Townspeople tried to relocate it and accidentally split it in half.
- 1834: The top half was hauled to the town square for display.
- 1880: The halves were reunited at the waterfront, but not quite perfectly—hence the famous crack.
The “1620” carving? Added in the 1800s, long after the Pilgrims were gone.

So the rock you see today is more of a symbol than an artifact. And symbols can be powerful… even if they’re smaller than expected.

What Makes Plymouth Worth the Trip

Plymouth itself is charming, historic, and absolutely worth a visit—even if the rock leaves you shrugging.

Brewster Gardens — A pretty little park right off the waterfront with footbridges, flowers, and shady paths. It’s the kind of place you wander into and think, “Oh, this is lovely.”
The Massasoit Statue — Overlooking the harbor, honoring the Wampanoag leader who forged a peace treaty with the Pilgrims. The view from up there is one of the best in town.
The Mayflower II — A full-scale reproduction of the original ship. It’s surprisingly immersive, and the interpreters do a fantastic job bringing 1620 to life.
Plimoth Patuxet Museums — If you want the real, nuanced history—not the postcard version—this is where it lives.

Plymouth isn’t overrated. Historic Plymouth Rock is.

And Now for Something Actually Exciting: Captain John Boats

Once you’ve stared at the rock for the obligatory 30 seconds, you’re only steps away from one of the best things Plymouth has to offer: Captain John’s whale watches.

For nearly 50 years, these trips have been part of my life—breaching humpbacks, sea spray, the thrill of spotting that first tail flick. It’s the perfect contrast to the stillness of the Rock. If Plymouth Rock leaves you wanting more, Captain John’s will give you a show the Pilgrims never dreamed of.

Wrapping It Up

So yes—Plymouth Rock may be one of the most overrated attractions in America, but Plymouth itself is a gem. It’s a place where history, beauty, and the Atlantic all meet. Go for the Rock if you must… but stay for everything else. And if you time it right, you might just end your day with a whale tail against the horizon.