Hey, Kendall, I'm looking foward to coming up to Maine, and hope to take the scenic routes you mapped out for me.

Although I'll not have a lot of use for hypnotizing lobster down in Asheville NC (to where we're fixin' to retire next year, I hasten to add)I figure if it works on lobsters it ought to work on hillbillies, too.

I'm still rereading your book down there on the mountain house. It makes great outhouse entertainment (no offense) the stories are just the right length. How did you gauge them so perfectly?

Speaking of outhouses, did I ever tell you how my cousin Viola burnt down the outhouse up on the hill above grandPa's house in Honeyville? She was sneaking a lucky strike one Sunday afternoon when grandPa walked up on her whistling Leather Britches, she jumped up threw her cigarette down the hole and the Montgomery Ward (Sears was too expensive) fell down off her lap into the hole. Pa went in as she went out and sat down. After 5 minutes or so the catalog down in the hole caught on fire. Pa escaped with only scorched galluses on his overalls, but the outhouse burned down to reveal 30 years of accumulated, well, nevermind...

Cheer up, or I'll tell another story, you hear?
chance