Don't we all know some guy who every now and then slips into remembrance of some perceived injustice he suffered years ago...
Ha, ha; who, me? I chuckled when I read that and recalled the time I vented my spleen to Uncle Ken about my second grade humiliation at the hands of Miss Rockwell. Although not worth retelling, it's interesting how a singular childhood event can shape a person's attitude. Well done.
The "little red hen" reference eluded me until I looked it up and, yeah, I recall it now; another childhood story. I didn't realize that it is likely of Russian origin, if that means anything at all these days. There is still a lot of wisdom in the old folk tales, myths, and fables but I wonder if they are still being read or told. I can't tell; maybe there are modern versions that have slipped my notice. Remakes are big these days.
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Although groan inducing, I didn't think the Esso Bee story was that bad; I kind of enjoyed it. It was well told and a welcome respite from recent musings that should have run their course by now. I'm not saying which ones, but you can get my drift.
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I keep thinking about those 88 acres of the Beaglesonian Freehold and how it is managed. Is it fenced in or otherwise delineated as private property? Can people come and go as they please or are trespassers shot on sight? I've read that some rural areas can become unwelcome dumping sites but maybe the folks in that neck of the woods are generally well mannered and considerate, respecting the property rights of others. But I know how far sound carries in isolated areas and it would creep me out, waking up to hear a party going on late at night, somewhere, out there.
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