Spring Work Weekend, 2007

I've heard many excuses for not going to camp work weekend, but a few weeks ago, I think I heard the best one to have ever been uttered on our side of the Bearslide. Even Big Ed, who sez that he wrote the Book of Excuses long ago, has never heard of this one:

"My wife has a hangnail on her toe."

I am ashamed to name the culprit, although can safely mention to the merely observant that I shot a deer in this individual's tree-stand two years ago.

Erroll almost came in at second place, but he was granted a reprieve by our Fearless Leaders when he showed up--late--but at least he was there! We also cleared up Errol's "no-show" last fall, wherein I learned of his presence while at the Owlyout Tavern; apparently some of their patrons observed Erroll attempting to whiz around on his 4-wheeler. (When it didn't start, he went back home.) The strange thing is, on the night that Erroll went missing, I encountered these same patrons of the Owlyout (the previous evening) when they went to the top of the hill to make their phone call, and followed them back out to the road. Indeed, they remarked that they saw "an old feller."

In the meantime, we were battling moose on the path to the privy, that appear to have been heading on over to Academy Street. The Dynamic Duo took a trip over to Figure 8 Pond, and reported that there are cowpaths over there, so apparently this is the location of the winter lair for Mooses. (Not Moses)

Mike brought his dogs, and one of them bit both Dickie and myself, although not at the same time.

I finally learned the work history of the Massena gang, and how Dick gained his evil reputation.