Tag Archives: rural

Liveblogging the ‘pie party’ and other assorted random weekend shenanigans

Because I’m ridiculous …

And because I overestimate the interest in my random adventures …

And because I want practice liveblogging, so I’m not like “Um, how the heck do I use this?” when I have to do it for breaking news …

I’m liveblogging the rural ‘pie party’ extravaganza I’m going to around 7 p.m. Click here on our York Common Cents blog for updates, if you care.

Feel free to chime in with a comment and annoy me. Continue reading


Boyer the Explorer: I’m going to a ‘pie party’ in rural York County

Some delicious pie I consumed last week.

After visiting a diner in northern York County, I got an email from a reader.

“You should visit our close knit neighborhood in the farm country of Northern York Country,” it said.

Jim Dickey is having a pie party Friday night at his home on Blue Hill School Road. And I’m invited.

What’s a pie party, you ask?

It’s a community gathering in the rural farmlands — one with lots of pies, obviously. Continue reading

Just another Wednesday in a Codorus Township

Originally published on the Money & More page of the York Daily Record/Sunday News on Tuesday, December 27, 2011.

Daily Record/Sunday News

Earl Thoman, 91, checks out a deer rack at the Wednesday morning meeting in his Codorus Township woodworking shop. © 2011 York Daily Record/Sunday News -- Lauren Boyer

In the midst of the Christmas rush, I found myself face-to-face with the opposite as I traveled down Route 616 toward Seven Valleys with just the radio, my iPad and a travel mug full of hot chocolate.

It was Wednesday. A week earlier, I’d gotten a call from 81-year-old William Garman. He remembered a column I wrote in October about a meet-and-greet with bluegrass legend Del McCoury’s brother and other characters who frequent the Papertown Restaurant and Dairy Bar in his town of Spring Grove.

Garman, a P.H. Glatfelter Company retiree, invited me to his Codorus Township hangout – though he hinted at its unconventional appearance.

By the time I got to Shaffers Church Road, the sparse signs of civilization began to speak for themselves. Continue reading