Part 1 You cant make this stuff up!! Another believe-it-or-not adventure that could only be experienced by the crazy broads on Breakneck Way in Day Block (formerly Twp 31). Having said that, we must note here that there are about a dozen residences in Day Block. Of course that census doesnt include the uncounted off-the-grid individuals that either grow weed, make booze, hunt whatever and whenever they feel like killing and/or eating at any given time. Ive got the bullet holes in an upstairs ceiling to prove it! These free-spirited individuals seek a lifestyle outlined in the words set down and orally told to several generations of the people of Day Block. These words came from the mouth of their beloved hero who by example lived the life they desire to keep sacred. The dogma that has developed over time is based on the life of Wilbur Day, son of Sam Day, who was probably the most notable early settler in .....wait for it......DAY BLOCK. Just as with other sects of worship with man made dogma, the only part of this lifestyle known to be accurate is the part about hunting anytime, anywhere, and anything he wanted to hunt. More succinctly put...he was a poacher. Hey, some people will do anything for fame. Now some of the residents of Day Block might also be descendants of the stagecoach driver who rolled his coach on that nasty, downhill curve that sort of levels off by my house. I might add at this point that my house was built in 1863 by ....wait for it.....Sam Day! I dont really know who else in Day Block might be crazy, but I do know that Florence and I have added another chapter for the historians of the area to archive for the future residents and offspring of the Day Block Township territory. May it forever remain unorganized! But, I digress... Today was a long day. Florence kindly drove me to Brewer this morning for my scheduled appointments Radiation, Doctor consult, Chemo, and finally some dinner at the Coach House. The roads were not good, of course,but we found them to be manageable. We noticed that Route 9, aka Airline Road, was a bit worse coming home....hmmmm..no big deal, we would just go slow. Then slower..... as we finally reached my beloved road, Breakneck Way, we turned into a foot of freshly fallen - definitely not plowed - snow. That, my friends, was as far as we could go either forward or backward. Now being two young at heart and very intelligent, but crazy, women, we began to create a PLAN about how to get me into the house with my broken leg that has by now proven to be an extremely painful and useless appendage for the last 2 weeks. I was feeling pretty good about finally getting back to my treatments at Cancer Care of Maine. Part 2 Florence enters into an altered state while I jabber on about how we will figure it out. .. (to be continued)
Posted on: Tue, 01 Apr 2014 04:47:49 +0000
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