HeyJaredStephen H. Foreman
My fields, my streams, my woods, my words My latest book, Home: A Love Story: https://bookshop.org/p/books/home-a-love-story-stephen-h-foreman/22816850?ean=9798992461329&next=t
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 7
- Latest publication
- Sep 27, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 12, 2026
Latest issues
I Always Wanted To Play The Harmonica (opens the original)
Read excerpt
Something wonderful happened. It was late Sunday evening. Jamie was already in bed scrolling through her iPad. I had just taken off my jeans when the dogs went berserk the way they do when a bear’s around or when folks come to the front door. So, I yanked those jeans back on and went downstairs to check on the commotion. Somebody was at the door, but it was so dark I couldn’t tell who. Flip on the lights and who’s standing there but my neighbor, Alex Storozynski, a notable writer himself, and hi
September 9, 2026 (opens the original)
Read excerpt
My sister was here for a week, days of just hangin’, crab cakes and soft shell crabs from the Chesapeake Bay, that odd Baltimore accent. (“Oh, Hon’”) She’s eighty; I’m looking at eighty-six, but, given the sunlight and white hair, you couldn’t have told us one from the other. It was a grand few days, and I felt good about them, however, as her car pulled away, a sadness I’d been contending with crept back in, the sadness of knowing there are people in this world I will never see again. The seaso
The Week of August 24, 2026 (opens the original)
Read excerpt
Yesterday a good pal died, not so unusual an occurrence these days given my age, but the friendship itself was unusual given the peculiar natures of the two men: one, who played the most famous transvestite in history, the other a Marine Corps veteran. My guess: of all the talk of Tim Curry’s private life, I might well have been the most private of all. Believe it or not, Tim would order wings and a pizza which we’d gobble while watching a boxing match on TV. You heard that right. Wings and a pi
August 23, 2026 (opens the original)
Read excerpt
Some call it a twitteration. Was a time come the month of June when the air above the West Kill was carpeted by hundreds of thousands of monarch butterflies following the creek west. Maybe a million. I wouldn’t be surprised. Back then while some landed on the bridge to dither, most flew under it but stayed airborne, a black and gold fleet of fluttering wings. Now, I assiduously tend to all the milk weed I can find in hopes of attracting them once again. For years now, I’ve seen none, none that i
August 2, 2026 (opens the original)
Read excerpt
Two days in Maine, four away (two in a car), now here we are back home in Spruceton. With the exception of medical appointments, I’ve barely been out of our valley for two years. When we discussed where to go on our vacation it became apparent why we stick so close to home: there may be places on earth as beautiful but none more beautiful than where we live. Spruceton Valley. The Hamlet of West Kill. The Catskills. Mountains carved by rushing water not tectonic heave. Storied forests. Vast shade
Publishing over time
Last 90 days. Choose a month to open its work.
Recurring subjects
Named in the text we hold. One piece can cover several.
Audience
No verified audience measurement yet.
About this data
Counts cover the work we have indexed. Tone needs enough text and a confident classification. Excerpts and episode notes are not full articles or transcripts.
Identity or attribution wrong? Suggest a correction.