Maria and I returned to the bog tonight after an absence of more than a year. Our friend Kelly is no longer there, but we have a new friend – Amanda – who took good care of us tonight.

Photos to come. We got used to eating every night for a year; we were very happy to return. No more masks or social distancing.

I had a talk with Mark Harwood, the man – the Angel – who bought the Bog after the previous owner died, restored it at great expense, kept it, and took care of it during the pandemic, also at great expense.

We all thought the Bog was a lost cause. The building was a wreck, and no one in town could afford to buy it and meet the new health department standards.

Mark, a contractor who lives in a nearby town, was the angel who saved it, fixed it up, and stuck with it when so many businesses fell. He didn’t have to do it; it was a work of the heart.

As the pandemic winds down, it is once again a warm and friendly place; their burgers are still the best around. Farm and working-class families filled every table, waving to each other, cracking jokes.

The turkey sandwich we had tonight was good, thick, and fresh, so was the salad.

Mark told us to tell us the story of how the Bog was saved. He is quiet and open, no bragging.

He ought to get a medal from the town. The Bog fills a vacuum that no other place does in our small town can.

It’s the perfect place for families – tonight was Trivia night – inexpensive, cheerful.  It’s the perfect place for us – two or three nights a week; we want soup, a sandwich, or a burger.

That’s important. We work at home all day, and it was a joy to get to the Bog again tonight. Our world is coming back to us.

The Bog is popular among bikers, and I stayed away from it for years, thinking I wouldn’t be welcome there. Another lesson in judging other people and places. It turned out that the Bog was – and is – the friendliest place in town.

We were regulars before; we’re regulars again.

There is a bar people can hang out or order dinner from, and the funky dining room hasn’t changed much, except the big old wood stove had to go – new health department regulations. I’ll miss that in the winter.

The building has changed, but Mark has been faithful to the spirit of the place.

It was perhaps the worse time in American history for someone to buy an aging restaurant that was falling apart. Fortunately, he knows how to repair buildings. Unfortunately, there aren’t too many people around who would have taken a risk like that.

He kept the faith.

He hung in there, even when he was losing thousands of dollars a month during the lockdowns. He says he never came close to quitting.

People like Mark are heroes to me; he put up his own heart, blood, and money to help a town keep its favorite dining place, to give people a safe and friendly place to go for a meal.

The Bog is one of those places that make a small town tick. It was really missed. I miss Kelly too; she is happy and spending more time with her family.

Good things are happening. The Bog is back and in full swing.  A new Mexican restaurant is opening at Hubbard Hall, where the Round House Cafe used to be, and there rumors of a bakery coming too.

Bit by bit, the world is opening up, returning to normal, maybe better than before.

New people have moved to Cambridge, a lot of them gifted and young. The lifestyle here is what people seem to want now, not the rat race.

I sense that the world is changing quite a bit after the pandemic. Mark said people aren’t staying out as late now; they are used to being home at night with their families.

You wouldn’t have known it from the Bog. We got there one step ahead of the crowd; every seat the Bog and in the dining room was taken.

We’ll get there earlier next time.