I couldn't visit all the Maineacs from Mudcat much as I would have enjoyed it. I spent three days with the Skipper and enjoyed it so much I said I would like to stay forever, or until they got fed up and kicked me out. KEndall reckoned it wouldn't take as long as all that. But we had a wonderful time swapping songs and driving his classic '57 straight-eight Pontiac, with the built-in wolf-whistle. I went over to Portland to have coffee with Charley Noble en famille, and joined up with Jeri strolling through Portsmouth. We visited the gardens and glanced at Strawberry Bank, but the weather was foul and we did not linger there.

Now I am nestled in a little house deep in the Connecticut woods outside of Madison with old friends who are at work today. Odd how many of my friends have that syndrome going on. I tell them all they should just retire, and they seem unsympathetic.