“It seems like every third person in Maine has a dumptruck!” I told the young, overweight guy in a sleeveless, green smock of a shirt as I took a picture of his truck. With a flat smile, he said, “There ain’t nothin’ else to do here.”
Vic woke me up wide-eyed and we listened to a small animal eat our crackers at 3 am. It had managed to slide the food pannier out from under the rain fly, open the zipper, and get the crackers out. Of course, as Vic says, it only proves animals are stupid because it left the organic chocolate bar in the bag.