Friday, December 08, 2006

Land Trust Annual Meeting

As part of his ongoing job to keep you abreast of all the latest here in Green-which (as our older residents pronounce Grenitch), your scribe went to the Round Hill Club yesterday to hear the latest on local efforts to preserve open space and foil the developers who would cover every square inch of the town (however you may pronounce it) with McMansions, natatoria, hockey rinks, and what have you. The news is reasonably good, I am happy to report.

Some of the water company's land is being offered to the town as protected open space. The price is still under discussion, but the state has recently passed a law offering financial incentives to companies (and individuals, I imagine) who set aside some or all of their property for conservation. So expectations are that the transaction will come to pass sometime in 2007.

Finances of the Greenwich Land Trust are strong. Long-uncultivated apple orchards are being brought back to fruition, as it were. Two samplings of honey from different Land Trust properties were on offer, and the one I tasted was so good that I had seconds on it rather than trying the other one.

After perhaps the longest meeting on record - there was, by common consent, one speaker too many - we adjourned to the bar. Readers of these pages will not be surprised to learn that the DFH was already there, although she seemed to be working on only one glass of wine at a time, not two. "Hi, dude," she greeted me. "How ya doin'?" I asked, not to be outdone in politesse. Neither of us expected my question to warrant an answer, and it did not, in fact, receive one.

I met the director of Lyndhurst, over in Tarrytown, NY, who informed me that this coming Sunday is the annual free admission day. Likewise, Washington Irving's home, Sunnyside, will be free. At ten bucks (the usual entrance fee) a pop, it should be worth the gas to drive over to Ttown and get some cultcha.

That's a quick summation; now it's off to a funeral. Then later today there's an author party at the Arts Council, followed by another saloon soiree chez the AuthorBabe. Busy, busy.


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