On town meeting day, the school gymnasium was rife with rumors about the imminent Wife Swap. I don’t know how many little old ladies I had to convince that I really wasn’t going to make the swap. Really!
This weekend the maple sap ran and so did I, from one outdoor project to another. I stoked fires, hauled buckets of sap, climbed ladders, and clipped branches. And I must say, it all made me think about how likely it would be that NBC could find a replacement wife that would be willing to finish off the strange pruning that Maurice the moose began or clean up after a moose that had chewed his way through an orchard of fiber.
As my grandfather would have said, “Not Bloody Likely.”