Tue May 26 08:53 EDT 1998
Weekend Update: Memorial Day Weekend 1998

I hope you had a great Memorial Day.  Pepperell celebrated its
veterans with its annual parade down Main Street.  It's a really small
town parade where the little league is mustered to make it last more
than 15 minutes.  As the elementary school band approached, we
realized that we were on the wrong side of the road to take pictures
of Emily and Andrew.  Joy and I dashed across the parade route,
leaving the embarrassed teenagers behind on the wrong side of the
street.

Andrew was one of the banner carriers right in front (a switch from
his intended duty).  He tried mightily to maintain the solemnity of
the parade as his mother moved in close for the all-important
photograph that we'll display when he graduates from High School.
Emily stuck out her tongue, which is another indication that they are
twins no longer.

The Manor is a beehive of activity which continued despite having
company every day of the weekend.  We apologize for the mid-project
mess they had to endure. Stephen (my brother) and Sharon came up
yesterday with three children, two of whom were Steve's and one who
looked familiar.  I thought, this must be one of Sharon's boys, but I
can't remember his name and he looks awfully like Russell IV.  It's
been almost a year since I saw Russell IV (too long) and he's grown!

Sing with me: "I've been working on the hen house, all the live-long
day!"  Joy has been tending a pool the color of antifreeze.  Miranda
has been painting doors.  Everyone else is helping out here and there.
The painters hope to be done by the end of this week, and we hope to
be right behind them with our trim painting.  Just in time for our
first summer bash with the Wallaces from Florida.

We have at least three squirrels in our attic; I counted them.  I went
out and bought a Hav-a-heart live animal trap so that I can capture
them and turn it into Hav-a-heartless dead animal drowning trap.  I'm
just emulating one of my heroes, Dennis Scott.  (What's the best bait
for squirrels, Dennis?)  (Can any of you hear Elmer Fudd singing, "kill
the wabbit!  kill the wabbit!") Now, if any of you want to save these
squirrels from ending up deep in my compost pile, send a self-addressed,
postage-paid animal carrier box and I'll see to it that you get the animal.
It's not that I dislike squirrels, but I have a thing about "my space"/
"your space" with animals, and the twain shall not be mixed.

Mark
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