I have probably told this story here before, but retelling is one of the privileges of age–partly for the joy of the story and partly due to CMS. So I will continue to repeat myself and just get over it. The first summer here, a gentleman stopped by the house while we were working on the reclamation project du jour. He’d lived in these parts for many decades and wanted to know if we were enjoying “swimming back up in the green holes up …

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