Just back from a week at the lake in Maine, hence the lack of entries here. But here’s a story that fell in my lap this morning.
I’m going to visit an old friend of the family to collect his stories. I’ve met him just once, but he grew up with my parents. He gave me detailed directions to his house, including which of the roads are paved and which are not. That’s always a good clue. He and his wife, he said, would be in town at a historical society meeting, and with the conversation afterward it was possible he’d be a little late getting home. His sister would be with them and she’s a great one for talking. I was to make myself at home until they arrived. The house would be open or I might like to explore the gardens. “But stay away from the pear tree,” he warned. “I’ve got traps around it.”
“Traps.”
“Well, the bear’s been bothering.”
“You’ve got bear traps set under the pear tree?” I was fairly alarmed by this.
“No. Fox traps. So if the bear steps in one his toes will get pinched.”
Whew.
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