Be Careful What You Write Me



I love having a blog. I must since I write everyday, whether I have the time or anything to say. Amazingly some people read it, whether they have the time or anything to learn. One of my favorite things about the blog is the comments, e-mails, and facebook postings I get in response and the things I learn about other people.


Last week I posted a blog titled Lobstah! In response I got an e-mail from Sheppy Vann, the just retired head of the DA preschool. She surmised from one of the photos in the post that I was in Rockport Maine which was not that far from where she and her husband Dick live in the summer at the old farm house his grand parents bought to summer at in 1907. In her message she invited me to visit them.


Turns out Sheppy lives only a few miles from camp and that Dick had attended summer camp for many years at Medomak when it was a boy’s camp. Never being one to pass up a chance to spend some time with one of the best storytellers on earth I went to see Sheppy and Dick at their sweet house on St. George’s Lake.


Even though I knew Sheppy came to Maine in the summer we never discussed exactly where until she read my blog. It is just another example of how small a world it is that two families from Durham, NC end up at the same place hundreds of miles away from home every summer.


Thanks to Sheppy’s superior reading comprehension she had an iced tea with lemon all ready for me when I walked in the door of the kitchen with it’s restored wood burning stove and sink with a water pump which thankfully is not their main water source anymore. We took our drinks and our needlework and went out and sat on the Adirondack chairs in the back yard and she knitted and I needle pointed while I filled Dick in on what Medomak is like these days. I got to hear the story of how Sheppy and Dick grew up together in New Jersey and eventually married. It’s a good story that’s Sheppy’s to tell.


After a few hours together I had to get back to camp, but I had learned more about Dick and Sheppy in our visit than I had in the last 11 years of knowing Sheppy at home. There is a closeness I feel with people when I visit them out of context. Somehow the regular life stuff is out of the way and we can talk freely about anything. Not that either Sheppy or I ever had any trouble speaking freely. Dick was a good sport about listening and did not try and compete in the story telling arena.


So be this fair warning to all you readers. If you invite me somewhere don’t just do it to be polite. You never know where I am going to show up and I might just take you up on your kind offer.