“Down the hill and around the corner.” Whenever someone asks where I’m from, I proudly answer: Dublin, New Hampshire. Their puzzled looks remind me to translate it into local shorthand: Knollwood Manor—the stately home of our dear late Augusta Petrone. I live just down the hill and around the corner from that sprawling estate, so every reference to it feels like a warm welcome home.

My first summer job was weed-whacking Mrs. Petrone’s vineyard—quite the task if you’re unfamiliar with its size. My Uncle Sturdy tended the property long before I could operate a shovel or shoo porcupines from Augusta’s rows of hydrangeas, and he was the reason I got the job. I spent countless afternoons and evenings enjoying sack lunches or catered chicken salad by “Lake Augusta,” the old Colonel Joe Petrone’

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