True Story: At Camp Woodstock, on Crystal Lake in Wascott in northern Wisconsin, we had very old fishing line (20 years old?) and we still caught a few walleye. Puck says: That was a miracle! (When we cleaned the fish, we thru the fish guts on the side-hill where a grey fox was waiting to eat.)
My Uncle Chet and my Aunt Mary inherited Grandma Rose's cabin in Solon Springs, south of Superior, Wisconsin. I spent my childhood at the lake with them. He let me hold my first garden snake and took me berry picking. One time, he saved my life when I was stung in the face by hornets. He was the best uncle on the planet. He was goofy, and really really silly at times which made him all the more loveable.
Like the crooked man who lived in a crooked house, it was the characterful, not to say skew-whiff, nature of the house that first drew him there: ‘It works quite well with the higgledy-piggledy of my collecting.’
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