From Stuart & Susan Wenzel
 
>Greetings from the flooded Great Plains!  I hope all you New Englanders
>weathered your storm safely.  I hear there was thunder and lightning along
>with the blizzard last night!  That must have been something.
 
Boston, while remaining relatively unscathed by winter, found itself buried
under at least two feet of snow.  This was the third largest blizzard on
record, and was bracketed by days of sunshine and spring temperatures.
Errata and I went out to survey the damage yesterday, and today I let her
try to dig the truck out.  We decided to let the sun take care of it, and
took another walk around the neighborhood.
 
One thing you can say about working-class, Irish Brighton is that people are
pretty hip about ferrets.  We seldom met a snow-shoveler or sun-worshipper
who didn't get her species right on the first guess.  Almost everyone we met
a) had a ferret as a child, b) knew someone in western Mass who had a
ferret, c) knew a plumber or electrician who used a ferret in their work, or
d) wanted a ferret, especially after petting Errata's soft, soft fur.  One
guy thought she was a marten, another a weasel--at least they're getting the
family.
 
One older gentleman, whom we had met before, regaled us with tales of
ferreting for rabbits in Ireland.  He evidently tried keep up the practice
when immigrating here.  He is convinced that the anti-ferret laws here were
classist and aimed at the Irish, and you cannot tell him otherwise.  He was
rather disappointed that ferreting is still prohibited, because my sandy
jill would make a fine, fine snooper.  He wagered she would be death on
ratties.  All this while the Great Huntress draped over his arm, melting
under his firm petting.  He is one of those people with a gift for calming
animals.  She was fast asleep when he handed her back to me.
 
To those of you just getting back online after the power failures, welcome
back, and remember to bend with your knees, not with your back.
 
-- Lee
[Posted in FML issue 1891]