I was embarrassed. The friend who had challenged me to create the list was aghast.
Over the next couple of months, my friends and I taught Sarah how to shop in the Haymarket from the pushcarts at closing time.
I know when and where I'm not. It's not Navy, and it's not Maine.
Nobody likes an unresolved mystery, and Spinney always held his cards close to his chest.
Dig carefully; there should be a row of sealed Mason jars about a foot down."
Who can forget driving to the dump covered in a carpet of dirty white gulls and watching the waves of birds parting magically before your car?
Over the past four months, I returned to the 1960s and '70s for some good and not so great memories. I've always tried to keep within limits of what could have happened when I took a frolicking detour from what occurred. I cleaned things up.
I'd learned in the Navy that what geedunks ( sweets and specialty items not served at meals) the ship sold were not necessarily what I wanted. So I had a private stash.
it was the reek of pure Old Woodsman. Over the long lifespan of the boat, gallons must have been spilled in it, because no amount of restoration would ever remove all that smell.
Sitting on the float, I could look at my reflection in the water. If I shifted focus, I could see the thousands of small jellyfish swarming around the float and the nearby wharf.