From Amanda

A childhood story about asking for a hamburger that wasn’t on the menu became a reminder of how much we limit ourselves by deciding in advance what’s possible here in the North Country.

A quiet act of kindness becomes the starting point for a reflection on why the warmth of this community doesn’t always translate to online spaces.

On pressure, performance, and why so many North Country business owners feel like they’re failing quietly.

In this reflection on running a business in the North Country, I explore what happened when I stopped forcing certainty, started listening more closely to myself, and learned the quiet power of saying no.

What happens when you ask yourself the questions you usually avoid—and answer them out loud, without editing, without hiding, and without knowing where the truth will land?

In 2026, small-town businesses earn trust and customers not by being louder online, but by being clearer, more consistent, and unmistakably human.

A hike, a conversation, and two strangers’ stories came together this week to remind me how deeply our presence can shape the world around us.

This is the storm we don’t see coming—our businesses becoming invisible not from lack of heart, but from lack of presence where customers are now looking.

Sometimes the smallest moments, the ones we’re most tempted to ignore, are the ones quietly trying to guide us back to ourselves.

You’ve seen it—the business owner who makes every post about themselves. When the spotlight turns inward, the customers quietly disappear.

In the quiet of northern New Hampshire, one mother fights through another day of waiting, stretching, and feeding her family one more meal.

I didn’t expect a rainy night at the Littleton Community Center—or a tiny turtle—to change the way I think about stillness, belonging, and what it means to be enough.

When the recording vanished and the nation shouted “No Kings,” I was reminded how little we can control — and how much we still can choose.

This isn’t a story about success. It’s about the mornings when you wake up tired, when gratitude feels like work — and the small, steady reminders that the world still runs on kindness if you know where to look.

When someone hurts us—especially online—our first instinct is often to strike back. But retaliation rarely gives us the control or closure we’re hoping for.

In the wide golden plain, a Rhinoceros chased applause and a Fox built in silence—but only one discovered the secret hidden beyond praise.

From my perch above Main Street, I see it all—postal workers, candy-toting tourists, and dogs dragging their humans around. Mommy says she’s building her legacy, but between us, I think the real legacy is mine.

In today’s digital landscape, mastering search visibility is no longer just an option; it’s a necessity for New Hampshire  businesses aiming to thrive. With the local market becoming increasingly competitive, understanding the intricacies of search engine optimization (SEO) can set you apart from the crowd. Whether you're a quaint coffee shop in Concord or a tech startup in Manchester, the right strategies can elevate your online presence and drive more customers through your

Sometimes we have to leave, sometimes we get scattered by storms, and sometimes we find our way back. Last week reminded me that the return home—whatever that looks like—can change everything.

I recently reimagined the story of the Emperor’s New Clothes for our digital age. Spoiler: the Emperor’s new “strategy” wasn’t much better than his wardrobe.

In 2002, I survived the largest volcanic eruption Ecuador had seen in more than a century. This week, I survived another kind of eruption right here in the North Country.

Willy the Fish thought life in his bowl had finally settled into joy—until one morning, he woke to find another fish staring back at him, copying his every move.

While Concord debates the state’s economic future, there’s one thing North Country businesses can do right now to make sure we’re impossible to overlook.

One icy day in Franconia Notch, a single phone call changed everything. That moment gave me my freedom — and began my journey back to joy.