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Oxford's quiet streets get quieter after Dec. 17. Chipotle is missing its infamously long line, and Kofenya has open booths. A winter break in Oxford is odd, yes, but it isn’t so bad.
Following senior commencement, Miami University plans to break ground for construction, but not for a new academic building or residence hall.
Banana peels and egg shells, tree trimmings and excess mulch, doggie waste and leftovers. All of this household waste has one common characteristic: When Rumpke eventually dumps these scraps into the local landfill, they go through anaerobic decomposition, releasing exorbitant amounts of methane into our atmosphere.
So, you’re thinking about collecting household organic waste? In my last article, I reviewed the importance of watching your waste and how composting is vital to the slowing of greenhouse gas emissions. As a student, parent or professor, you can take easy action in properly disposing of organic waste.
As I get off I-275 to make my way back to Oxford the light turns green, and with the curve of the road, a giant hill ominously approaches on my right. Birds circle overhead, and a repugnant odor covers the area, causing me to jab the recirculation button on my dashboard.
This article has a companion piece which can be read here.
TW: This story contains content addressing suicide, self-harm and mental illnesses
A black treeline stretches across my childhood home’s backyard, a small forest that, as a kid, I imagined held the magic of Narnia and the beasts of the Forbidden Forest.
My mother, sister and I sat on orange Adirondack chairs outside our local organic grocery. I was drinking a wonderful Golden Goddess, a gut healthy latte packed with turmeric, ginger, cinnamon and cardamom, which I promptly ruined by exchanging almond milk for whole and adding a shot of espresso. We were enjoying a beautiful May day on our quiet street in the foothills of the Blue Ridge.
Hemingway's "A Moveable Feast" narrates his young adulthood in Paris as a struggling journalist.
In early February, I wrote an article claiming that we, the generation entering young adulthood during a global pandemic, are a Lost Generation: a generation with battered spirits and deprived souls, all aimlessly wandering in confusion.
The April shower is clear and you’re walking to class in the humid haze of an Ohio spring, passing the perfectly-curated tulips, surrounded by impeccably-placed dark mulch that are all engulfed in the plaid-clad grass of the quad. The trees are in full bloom, the red brick walkway is ice-free and the ‘most beautiful campus that ever there was’ rings true in your head.
City council voted to reopen Oxford’s Designated Outdoor Refreshment Area (DORA) for the third consecutive year, this time without a closing date. The resolution was approved unanimously at the council’s May 17 meeting.
On Thursday, Mar. 24 of this year, Russia invaded its neighbor and post-Soviet state, Ukraine. The world was shocked.
Unlike many, I have faith in Miami University dining halls. It’s a hot take amongst my peers, but if you procure the right meal, a night at the dining hall can be just as good — or even better — than a meal uptown.
American author Gertrude Stein once told Ernest Hemingway, “You all are a lost generation.” The ‘you’ she is referring to is the generation of young adults that survived World War I – but their spirits were battered and their souls were deprived.
The morning coffee, the 2 o’clock pick me up, the Diet Coke with dinner and the occasional late-night library Red Bull: most of us can’t function without at least one dose of caffeine a day.