From the desk of the Publisher

An Honorary Canney An Honorary Canney

Robin Goldsworthy is the publisher of the Crescenta  Valley Weekly. She can be  reached at  or (818) 248-2740.
Robin Goldsworthy is the publisher of the Crescenta
Valley Weekly. She can be
reached at
or (818) 248-2740.

Another week sees me in (today) sunny New Hampshire. While it has been a challenging time here on many fronts, I have also learned much from those who live here. For instance: driving in the snow.

Since arriving I have been staying with almost-family, Carolyn and Albie, who have opened their home to me making me feel like one of their own. Hot dinners, breakfast to go, clean sheets – they make sure I have everything I need. After arriving here I voiced my concern – repeatedly – about driving in the snow. I had never done it and especially with one hand (I still have a cast on my right from a fall in early March) I didn’t want to have to negotiate that white stuff in a place I’m unfamiliar with.

So imagine my dismay when Carolyn called to say that it had started snowing at home, about 25 minutes away. I bolted like I was shot out of a cannon and made my way to my rental car under a cloudy but snow-less sky.

That didn’t last.

Ten minutes into my travels it started – at first like little spits then big white fluffy flakes. I couldn’t help myself – I opened my window and stuck my hand out. And, being a news professional, I had to make sure and record the experience. (Scan the QR code to see what I had to endure.)

I did make it safely back to Carolyn and Albie’s I’m happy to report.

My obvious unease with driving in the snow prompted Carolyn to include me in a girls’ night out with several of her sisters. The Canney girls try to have a night out on a regular basis and scheduled a night out at a cooking class about an hour away (I made sure Carolyn drove.)

There we were divided into pairs and assigned duties to create a Tuscan dinner: veal stuffed with asparagus and cheese, homemade ravioli and sauce, mini-pizzas, biscotti. After cooking it all, we sat at a huge table to enjoy the fruits of our labors.

It didn’t take long to realize that I was not going to be much help. I can barely hold a spoon with my left hand much less stir something. Chopping? Out of the question. But I was able to hold a wine glass and I am very good at giving directions or being a cheerleader. So the Canney girls in no time were the recipients of my “atta girl” and “that probably needs more pepper” comments. I think they applauded my California spirit and enthusiasm. And when dinner was served, one even cut my veal.

Hospitality is certainly not in short supply in NH.

Me with the Canney girls and friends.
Me with the Canney girls and friends.