Labour Day weekend took me away. Off to a wonderful cottage in the Kawarthas, where radio silence was the watchword. No net, no television. Mrs Still Kicking was able to stand on a dock and catch weak waves on her berry. That was the method we used to obtain the final score on Sunday morning. During the game we were too busy singing around the campfire to care about porous defence. The last minute loss, same old same old.
I will pick Trout's brain to get more details.
The illustration is from Mr. Trout. He is my hero and my guru......
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