We haven’t had many house guests during Covid. Our firsts lately, Brothers Bill and Wootie Steed, came for a visit this week. As we talked, a local coastal camp for kids was mentioned, CampSeagull. Wootie suddenly blurted out: “…I went to that camp.!” Slowly he shared a largely undisturbed memory of a 12 year old . “What I remember most is my widowed Mom enrolled me for a whole summer month! Oh. And they wouldn’t let me play golf. Silence.

You could see smokey memories creeping back. His face changed. “They distributed the mail daily. I went to mail-call every day. I only got one postcard . It was signed by my mom and 18 year old sister, and it was postmarked BERMUDA.”

Women can be crafty.

And tough. For years some old basketball players gathered annually at teammate Rocky Covington’s Myrtle Beach condo. The late Larry Schwab never missed. We told the same stories every year. A 6ft. 240lb. grizzled Navy vet, Larry always told about going back home hungover, only to find out his wife had given his dog away. He could always shed a tear with the last lines: “What kind of wife gives her husband’s dog away? What kind of man stays married to such a woman?”

And these bad luck women stick like glue
It's either one or the other or neither of the two

(NETTIE MOORE" by Bob Dylan 

Still one wonders?

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