Maine infected me at the age of 12, in Brunswick, on a family trip from Minnesota. The bug was more or less dormant until I moved to Boston in the late 70s, spread a little as I flirted with the mountains and lakes of New Hampshire and Vermont, and now, with the bemused tolerance of my wife Cynthia Dockrell, has set in without cure.
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
Does a fox...
poop in the woods? Around here, apparently not, judging by all the scat on the roads and lanes. Maybe it's a not-so-subtle comment on the gashes in their world.