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We are back at our little cabin in the big woods, the Adirondack hideaway we refer to as "Beaver Meadow Heights." For weeks leading up to our departure from Florida, North Country friends sent dire warnings. "Got another six inches of snow last night. Driving winds. Bitter cold. Will it ever end?" wrote one. Another penned, "All the snow has slid off your roofs, but the pile is so high you won't be able to get in your door." Just in case we weren't taking the warnings seriously, a stiff wind practically blew us from Florida to Thurman, accompanied by driving rain. Terrible storms flared all around the southeast, but mercifully were not close to our travel route.

We followed the swollen Schroon River out of Warrensburg, awed, as always, by the force of the water roaring toward the Hudson. Familiar landmarks led us home -- Sugarloaf Mountain, Thurman Station, Thurman town hall; then Martin's Lumber, Crane Mountain. At last we were at the foot of our driveway, surprisingly able to navigate the slope, spraying mud all the way up the hill. The snow pile in front of the house had shrunk from its mammoth proportions, and we were able to get into the cabin.

Far from a turn-key set up, our cabin remains unheated during the winter, and the water pipe to our spring is drained. A stack of firewood was waiting for us, however, and within hours the woodstove had taken most of the chill from the living room and had moderated the temperature in the back part of the house. Buckets of snow now melt behind the stove to supply utility water until we can access the supply from our spring again. We have begun settling in and catching up on emails -- albeit by dial-up connection.

Cold, banks and buckets of snow, dial-up Internet--it doesn't matter. There's no place like home. Most of the snow is gone and mud season is well underway. It's spring in the Adirondacks, and we are here, looking forward to a joyous summer.

Okay, I know I'm borrowing heavily from Harold S. Kushner, author of "When Bad Things Happen to Good People". Hope he doesn't mind. I'm so busy bubbling I just couldn't think of a truly original title (if there even is such a thing).

On Friday evening my Thurman neighbors Gary and Wini Martin learned that Gary, who owns and operates Martin's Lumber, a Certified Tree Farm and sawmill -- a classic mom and pop business run with the help of Wini's brother Bill -- had been selected as one of just ten semi-finalists in the I Love NY "Greenest New Yorker" competition for 2011. What a tribute--and one Gary well deserves! He honors the rule our parents' and grandparents' generations lived by: "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or go without." And he remembers hearing his grandfather saying, "Take care of your woods, and your woods will take care of you." A small boy at that time, Gary didn't understand what his grandfather meant, but today he does, and he works daily at taking care of his tree farm, selectively cutting and utilizing every bit of wood from the trees he saws, right down to the sawdust.

Not to be outdone in the "green" department, Wini, when she isn't out helping him saw, turns junk mail into jewelry--transforming glossy ad fliers into exquisite beads for earrings, bracelets and necklaces. She also custom designs commemorative gifts from wedding/engagement/save the date announcements and other special paper items.

As a team, they have carved a special place in the Thurman landscape, hosting open houses during maple weekends, and on a daily basis welcoming customers as guests, sharing a fresh-baked cookie and a cup of coffee and guiding them on a woodswalk to show just how Martin's Lumber protects and preserves the forest for generations to come.

So what's next? The public gets to vote Gary into the top three candidates for "Greenest New Yorker" and you can vote, too, once a day, every day through April 17th. And do you visit Facebook

Spring approaches in the Adirondacks, but no one is slathering on the sun block or slipping into shorts just yet. Maple producers around Thurman recently have shared stories of wallowing on snow shoes through fluffy drifts in cut-to-the bone winds in order to set taps for this year's sugaring season. Those who use plastic tubing to deliver sap to the collection vats have been out running new lines, repairing old ones, and making sure all is ready for the running of the sap. The weather toys with them, flitting playfully above freezing for a couple of days, then dropping twenty degrees and dumping more snow -- sometimes the kind of snow that can snap tree limbs, limbs that then fall on newly strung sap lines. Once the sap begins to flow in earnest, the boiling will begin. In a good season the task on a given day can go on for hours on end. Tales are told of sugarmakers who literally fall asleep on their feet beside their evaporators, steam crusting hair and eyebrows with crystals of sugar.

Sugaring is tough work, but those I know who engage in it, love it. "I think most sugarmakers are a little bit insane," observed Dave DeLozier, publisher of Ecolocal Living magazine, when I recently submitted an article I'd written about Toad Hill Maple Farm's new sugarhouse. Most sugarmakers I know would agree, readily admitting that the amount of work they do, the need for blind trust in weather known to be fickle, and the expense of equipment and supplies all set them up for failure. A compulsion drives them out into the sugarbush each February and March anyhow.

This year, as in years past, Thurman's maple producers, along with a local sawmill, will roll out the carpet for visitors each of the last three weekends in March. It begins with Thurman Maple Weekend, March 12 and 13, when Valley Road Maple opens at 9 a.m. for pancakes, and the other three sites open at 10 to offer tours and demonstrations. That first Saturday is crowned by the annual Maple Sugar Party, a buffet supper to raise money to fight cancer. Hod Ovitt and the Warren County Ramblers will be on tap to make the occasion festive, and a dessert of pure Thurman maple jack wax will leave no sweet tooth unsatisfied.

The breakfasts, tours and demonstrations will continue on Saturdays and Sundays through the end of March, as Thurman producers participate in New York State Maple Weekends. For details on the event, how to find Thurman and navigate to all sites, please visit the Thurman Maple Weekends web page. You'll enjoy attending this event. If you are from out of the area, check out our local B&Bs on Thurman's web site, www.Thurman-NY.com, and s

I love efficiency, and when the chance came to help a good cause AND create an opportunity for an aspiring writer, the allure was irresistible. Yesterday a multi-year participant in the St. George Island Writers' Retreat contacted me to say that the Crown Leadership Academy, an independent, private, Christian school in Charleston, South Carolina is holding an online Ebay auction to raise funds for their program, I realized I could help two causes by donating one workshop registration for this summer's Adirondack Mountain Writers' Retreat. This means the school makes some money and one writer has a chance to participate in this summer's retreat at a bargain price. If you plan to attend this Fiction Among Friends event (July 22-24, 2011, at Wiawaka Holiday House, Lake George, NY) , be sure to check out the Crown Leadership Academy Ebay auction. Please note that the winner will still be responsible for fees payable to Wiawaka for lodging, meals and day use.

The retreat runs from Friday noon through Sunday lunch, and participants will enjoy workshops, blocks of writing time, feedback sessions, readings and private consultations with our retreat leader Irene Sherlock. Participation is limited to eleven writers. The auction runs just through February 14th, so get your bid in early.

Crystal vision lollygags over past failures.
Happiness demands focus on future promise.
Effervesce. Your bubbles pop in lives around you.
Expect happiness.
Rejoice in small things.
Savor friends.
!

To all the writers whose works and friendship have enriched my life, shored up my sagging spirits, allowed their effervescence to bubble over me, I wish a new year full of vision, creativity, joy and good health. Happy New Year!

Perky

The last time I posted here, I wrote of my excitement about the upcoming St. George Island Writers' Retreat. Now here we are, two weeks since the retreat ended, and I'm so focused on the memory that I'm having a hard time moving forward again.

The writers--nine of us attended, as it turned out--were smart, creative, kind, funny, talented (picture me shaking my head in awe, here)--and some revealed their talents as fabulous cooks, preparing meals to live on in memory.

Adrian Fogelin fed our writers' souls with workshops and exercises that stretched our minds the way her evening floor routine stretched cramped muscles. We listened, we bent our brains in new ways, and then we wrote. After we'd written, we marveled at what came from our minds after their contents had been manipulated and moved around. And we delighted in what different directions each woman around the table had had taken each exercise. The heady sense freedom generated by being able to set our own courses seemed to ignite little embers of worry in many of us, causing us to question the tack we had taken. Many announced to the group before reading new work aloud, "Well, this isn't any good, but...." Exercising freedom is scary.

But it was good. Even the work that needed editing and rewriting was good. Everything we did led us forward to a greater understanding of what works and what needs to be improved. That's progress.

Over our time together at the beautiful beach view retreat site of Abbeyfeale, friendships were created or reinforced, group jokes were hatched and a support network was formed. As always, I was sad when the retreat came to an end (but could I have lasted another day with five hours of sleep?), but full of happy memories, new skills and inspiration. Some photos have been posted on our St. George Island Writers' Retreat Facebook page, and I'll be updating my web pages soon with pictures, feedback and recipes.

I know I can't forever stare into the rear view mirror or I'll stray off course, but a glance now and then reminds me of a wonderful retreat that I'll savor and draw on repeatedly. Thanks, all.

Next Wednesday I'll be jaunting up to the Florida Panhandle, about three and a half hours away, and as I drive north, then west, I'll feel the daily humdrum slough away. One by one I'll tick off the towns along the route; Fanning Springs, Old Town, Cross City....Steinhatchee...Perry......don't forget to veer west there onto 98....enough wilderness and coastline to charm and pull me onward. The highway hugs the coast around Carrabelle; getting close; then it's Eastpoint, and time to turn off the main drag and head out to the Island. After the initial flurry of unloading the car and unpacking totes and coolers of groceries and other supplies for the retreat, I'll be eager for the arrival of our mentor Adrian Fogelin (see thumbnail photo at left) and all the writers who've signed up for this year's adventure.

Ten of us will settle in for four days of workshops and writing. Most of us have a work in progress, so between the workshops we'll hole up to see if we can forge ahead with our projects, or perhaps double back and fix a trouble spot--often after consulting with Adrian.

Our group is diverse, having walked various paths in life -- journalism, small business, homemaking, teaching and other professional careers. The writing we do ranges from general fiction to history to mystery to memoir. Some are struggling to find a beginning to a work, while others are plowing on to end a work or polish a finished draft. Some unabashedly say they are coming hoping to learn how to cultivate self-discipline in their writing. Diversity aside, there is a unity of purpose that unites us. We all want to learn, and we want that shared sense of purpose the retreat promises. Together we'll commiserate over plot snarls and roadblocks, and rejoice over each victory, each landmark passed.

I've been revising the first three chapters of my very rough first attempt at a mystery, trying to whip them into good enough shape to serve as a foundation for the work I want to do next week. I've introduced the characters and am fine-tuning details of the setting. I have a pretty good hunch about what the crime will be and "whodunit".

Will I get it all down on paper? Can I make all of the threads twist into a believable, engaging plot? I'll have to answer that next week, after the retreat. That is, unless you are planning to attend, in which case I'll tell you there. Oh -- you haven't signed up? Get in touch. There's room for one more.

Yes, I know. This could be the longest blog post in history. Could be, but won't be, because I'll need my nap pretty soon.

Seriously, I looked at yesterday's mail and was assaulted by an envelope. There, on the top of the wad of stuff that passes for correspondence, perched a letter from The Scooter Store. The Scooter Store! I couldn't believe it. Did they think I was old or something?

I assessed the situation. Well, sure, I had spent part of the previous evening with the latest issue of AARP on my lap, reading an article in which Kristen Bell, Jamie Lee Curtis and Betty White shared advice about aging. I identified best with Betty White's remarks. Hmmm. Betty White.... And when did AARP, replace my Grisham novels, anyhow?

What else was in the mail? Oh, perfect--two pitches to change my health insurance plans. Change them? Not likely! I still bear scars from having to wade through all that paperwork when I approached my 65th birthday -- not that all the "wading" did a lot of good. In the end, desperate to make a decision--ANY decision--I played what I call Medicare-meeney-miney-moe, arbitrarily picking a plan and tossing around big words like "deductible" and "co-pay" to justify my decision. It had all the science of throwing a dart at at target and being satisfied if it landed somewhere on the wall. Why can't health insurance selection for seniors be easy? We old folks confuse easily, you know.

And don't even think of getting me started talking about long term care insurance (yup, did that, too) or the dreaded "doughnut hole" in prescription coverage. Being a senior citizen is not for sissies, indeed.

And how about that term "senior citizen"? Remember when being a "senior" was something to anticipate with pleasure, the year you'd attend your senior prom and later parade across the auditorium stage wearing a robe and mortarboard, diploma clutched in hand? Anticipate being a senior citizen? Not so much.

You know you're getting old when you can get fired up talking about health insurance before most people half your age have had their first cup of coffee. Me, I'd had three before I even penned the first line of this post.

You know you are getting old when a New York Times article by Sandra Day O'Connor and others, called "The Age of Alzheimer's", reminds you that you now are in the age bracket of those whose chance of developing Alzheimer's doubles every five years. The article, concise and powerful, clearly describes what the US must do to prevent the dire future these numbers portend. I encourage you to look it up. It's not pleasant reading, but remember, we aren't sissies.

Much of the remainder of my day will be spent writing and preparing for an upcoming writers' retreat. But, before I do anything else, I'm going to snatch up that letter from The Scooter Store, toss it into the recycle bin and then plot a few other acts of senior disobedience.

NOVEMBER 10 - 16, 2010
I can't wait--white sand sparkling, sunlight dancing on surf, shrimp boats plying through gentle waves...the perfect backdrop for five days of glorious writing, of putting all other distractions on hold. I am SO ready for the retreat to begin.

We have a super group this year. As always, Adrian Fogelin, award-winning author of over seven young adult works, will be our author in residence. She will lead workshops and feedback sessions, offer private consultations, advice and encouragement. We'll have large blocks of writing time, too, so plan on making significant advances with your personal work-in-progress. The experience is magical.

Six of us who have attended one or more times in the past (this is our fifth year at St. George Island) will be there, laptops and dog-eared novel or memoir drafts in tow, and three new writers are on board, too--a great mix of interests and experience. We can fit in two more writers, but after that I have to close registrations and will be able to place interested writers on a waiting list only.

We check in at beautiful Abbeyfeale (a spacious private home overlooking the Gulf of Mexico) the afternoon of November 10 and stay through Sunday the 14th. If you are on the fence about signing up, do visit my website to look over the information and photos, and email or phone with questions or concerns. Hope to see you at the retreat.

The summer of 2010 saw the arrival of three trains weekly at Thurman Station, and, as president of the Thurman Station Association, I was involved in helping to create and publicize special activities in Thurman to attract and entertain rail passengers. Added to my other regular activities, it made for one crazy summer, with way too much stuffed into my volunteer schedule. Not only did I not blog, I let myriad other things slip between the cracks of my life, as well. I've finally found a few minutes to reflect on that crazy busy-ness, and the impact it had on me:

You know you've been too busy when your "short" hair cut is curling down around your collar and you realize it has been three months since you felt you could afford twenty minutes to sit down and have it cut.

You know you've been too busy when the pile of documents to be dealt with on your desk teeters above the screen of your open laptop and threaten to topple down onto it.

You know when you listen intently to a story your spouse is telling and realize moments later that not one word pierced your brain --- which was focused on that teetering pile.

You know when you forget to eat, to sleep, to go to the bathroom.

When you forget what file you were just about to open, whose number you were about to dial, what face belongs to the name on the page in front of you.

I knew best yesterday, when I sat down to work and suddenly was flooded with the awareness there was nothing -- NOTHING -- that I needed to do right away for any of those volunteer projects. It took a few minutes to fully realize that I had time to.....to what? I'd almost forgotten the alternatives.

I had time (not unlimited, but time, nonetheless) to phone a friend. Time to listen to some music and plug a few pieces into a jigsaw puzzle on the coffee table. Time to pull up a piece of fiction I wanted to noodle around with before my next writers' retreat.

Time to share a few thoughts with you in this long-neglected blog.

I've missed that.

Till soon,
Perky

Whoever coined that expression "lazy, hazy days of summer" didn't live in a small Adirondack town. As those of you who check in on this blog from time to time have noticed, it has been months since I've jotted a line here.

Chalk it up to Thurman and the myriad activities bubbling away here. I haven't stopped running since we returned home in April. Thurman Townwide Sale, Thurman Station Farmers' Market and Thurman Station Association's new projects (I'll blog more about those soon) have swallowed half of my waking hours. The work has been challenging, interesting and rewarding, so who can complain?

I have, however, enjoyed spending time organizing events for Fiction Among Friends, the organizational name under which I plan and execute events for writers. The first was a writing workshop at Thurman Town Hall on June 19th. A good group of writers turned out, and we spent an enjoyable day working together on fleshing out characters and learning about publishing options--and all that goes with publication of a work.

The Second Thursday Readings at Willows Bistro, 3749 Main Street, Warrensburg, NY, have really taken off. Now in our second year, thanks to the hospitality of proprietor Debbie Swan, the list of so-called "Bistro Readers" boasts over forty members, most of whom have read for our group one or more times. The next session will be July 8th, when we welcome writer/poet Pedro Ponce from Canton, NY, where he teaches writing at St. Lawrence University, and Charles Watts of Lake Placid, a former TV scriptwriter now writing short fiction. If you are in the Warrensburg area July 8, stop in for the program at 7. The public is welcome at no charge. Desserts and beverages will be available.

On Thursday, July 29th Willows Bistro and Fiction Among Friends will host writer/poet/teacher Irene Sherlock's 5 p.m. memoir-based workshop to be followed about 6:30 by a delicious Willows Bistro dinner. The cost of this offering is $20 (including the dinner!), but you must preregister for the workshop and pre-order the dinner, both through me--no later than July 22, please. Irene is an amazing teacher. Visit my website for details and to read comments from former students and workshop attendees. Email me from the site to sign up, and mail your check to 11 Clarence Russell Road, Warrensburg, NY 12885. I'll email to ask your choice of entrees. After dinner Irene will present a reading, followed by readings by RayLene Corgiat and Gail Huntley. It will be a fine evening.

More is on tap for Fiction Among Friends, but I'll save that for my next post (soon, I promise), along with some exciting news.

Till then, all my best,
Perky

As writers know, getting published is difficult. It usually begins with sending a story or novel out to acquisitions agents, editors or contests. It's a time-consuming business, apt to be frustrating and ego-deflating. The first rejections are devastating; subsequent one mind-numbing. But once in a while you send the right work to the right audience, and things click.

Gainesville writer Rhonda Riley, a member of the critique group I belong to, entered her book-in-progress in Amazon's Breakthrough Novel Award Contest. Amazon had invited submissions of adult and young adult novels, cutting off the entries at five thousand in each category. The grand prize includes cash and publication of the book by Penguin Publishers.

In pursuit of that brass ring, the manuscripts began a rigorous judging process in which the stack of ten thousand entries was reduced first to two thousand, then to five hundred.

Rhonda's novel, "Adam Hope: A Geography" is one of those five hundred. On April 27th, the current tier of judging will be completed, and before that time you can weigh in at this level of the judging by reading and reviewing the writers' first chapters. I hope you will.

Here's how:
1. Go to www.amazon.com/abna.
2. Select a category of fiction from the left column.
3. Rhonda's entry can be accessed by clicking on the "General Literature" link, and then scrolling through the list to see selections you'd like to read.
4. If you choose to read Rhonda's selection (I'm a little biased, of course), scroll down to the twelfth entry and click on it.

This is where it gets tricky, unless you already use Kindle.

5. If you don't have Kindle, and don't want to buy the device, you still may download the software for your PC or Mac to view the electronic version of the literature. Just click where indicated. Follow the download instructions on your screen. Initially I found it a little confusing, but eventually I got Kindle installed and was able to download the one-chapter sample of "Adam Hope." All I needed to do was log in with the info I usually use when I buy books. If you don't have an account, you'd need to start one. All of these things (downloading Kindle, starting an account and downloading the entries) are free.
6. Read, enjoy, rate the entries, write reviews (all optional).

What's next?

On April 27th, the number of contestants will be reduced to one hundred. A month later, six. Amazon customers will vote for their favorites, and on June 14th the winners will be announced. It's exciting to be on the fringe of the selection process. I think you'll like participating in the voting, and you'll certainly enjoy reading these works of fiction.

The contestants deserve hearty congratulations, first for all of the hard work involved in preparing a book-length work, and second for their courage in sending their work out into the world to be scrutinized by selected editors and general readers. Good luck to all!

Informally dubbed "The Bistro Readers," an expanding group of Adirondack area writers continue an ambitious program of monthly readings at Willows Bistro, 3749 Main Street, Warrensburg, NY.

On the second Thursday of each month, four to six writers give short readings from their published and unpublished works--fiction, memoir, humor, poetry and more. They serve up excellent entertainment, with that electricity that new work carries. Bistro owner Debbie Swan dishes up some fine food and beverages.

The free program to be presented on April 8th at 7 p.m. will highlight L.R. Warner, Elizabethtown, author of From the Blackest Cloud; Sonja Aubin, Elizabethtown, co-author of Growing Up Strong; Kathleen O'Day, Warrensburg, sharing memoir about teaching on an Indian Reservation; Carol Gregson, of Minerva, author of Leaky Boots, with new complaints; Doug Deneen, Warrensburg, with new...well, just come see what he has come up with. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll eat, you'll drink.... You don't really want to spend another night in front of TV reruns, when you could enjoy the most fresh material in the county, do you? Pick up a friend and get out to Willows. More readings are coming up, and you won't want to miss them.

Perhaps you've been wondering how to become a reader? Feel free to leave a comment here, email me from my web site (www.FictionAmongFriends.com) or call Debbie at Willows Bistro (518-504-4344). Each month's lineup is put together about three weeks in advance in order to make publicity deadlines. Readings will continue at 7 p.m. on the second Thursday throughout the spring and summer. See you there.

Small towns seem to grow legendary characters the way the north side of a tree grows moss, and Thurman has a new one in the making. It all started a few years ago with a shy sugar maker named Marc, who didn’t think he’d be able to make himself talk to a group of visitors on tour. His wife, Cheryl, told all the children in the group that there was an ancient Adirondack hermit named “Tapper” boiling sap up at the old sugarhouse, and they should go ask him to show them how to make syrup. Charmed by the children's wide-eyed interest, Kenyon forgot to be nervous and stepped into the role Cheryl had created. A character was born.

Now the kids come looking for him. At last weekend’s Maple Days, one spied him. “THERE’S TAPPER!” resonated through the sugarbush, and kids flocked around him for their annual lesson in sugaring. Some gave him a goodbye hug before leaving Adirondack Gold Maple Farm.

Down at Kenyon’s new sugarhouse, used primarily for displaying merchandise and sugar making equipment, guests from near and far—some as far as Texas and Arizona—enjoyed sampling and shopping for maple products—maple syrup, maple sugar, maple cream and maple cotton candy, to name a few. And Sally Feihel of Adirondack Suds and Scents showed of f her homemade soaps, lotions and soy votives, talking to visitors about how the products are made and playing a video of the soap making process. Tour-goers soaked up the friendship, good fun and hospitality that permeated the place, sometimes pausing to sit with a cup of Cheryl’s special maple chili, trying to wheedle from her the secret recipe. Adirondack Gold was just one of four stops on the trek around town. Many enjoyed fluffy pancakes with syrup at Valley Road Maple Farm and watched a sawing demonstration at Martin’s Lumber, where big slabs of maple, stained glass stepping stones and other crafts were on display. A stop at Toad Hill Maple Farm, said to be the largest in Warren County, rounded out the tour, as the Galusha family opened their sugarhouse to friends old and new, with high technology assisting them in an age-old art largely dependent upon weather conditions beyond the control of man.

Maple madness continues in Thurman each weekend through March 28th. To see a map and more information, visit www.Thurman-NY.com. Email [email protected] or phone 518-623-9718.

Tapper will be waiting for you.

In some parts of the North Country of New York, "March Madness" is translated as "Maple Sugaring." Thurman is one of those places. Our little town is believed to have one of the highest concentrations of maple producers in the region. Some boil just enough sap to fill the larders of family and friends, while others run commercial operations. Some boil in old evaporating pans over wood-fueled fires, while others employ high technology, using equipment like SteamAways and reverse osmosis machines. Most of our Thurman producers learned the maple business from a parent or grandparent, but whatever the background or the scope of operation, all will tell you that sugaring is an addiction. One Thurman "addict" reminded me that "Old sugarmakers never die; they just evaporate."

This is the month that Thurman celebrates its romance with maples, and you can join the fun. For the last three weekends of March (March 13-14, 20-21, 27-28), three maple farms and one sawmill will open their doors to the public for tours, demonstrations, browsing and family fun from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. There's also a Maple Sugar Party on March 13th.

Valley Road Maple Farm will open early (9 a.m.) to begin serving their renowned fluffy pancakes drizzled with pure Thurman maple syrup. They'll also have tours and will offer products for sale, including their award-winning maple candies.



Gary and Wini Martin of Martin's Lumber will give demonstrations of their sawmill and explain the concept of sustainable forestry. They will display their lumber (featuring maple slabs for tables and bar tops), stained glass stepping stones, paper bead jewelry and Jackie's quilted items. Be sure to add this stop to your tour.

Toad Hill Maple Farm, began producing syrup in the 1970s when the Galusha children asked their dad to help them hang a couple of coffee cans on a big tree in the yard. Today those kids are grown, the operation has grown, and Toad Hill, now run by Randy and Jill Galusha, is said to be the largest in Warren County.