Tales from Rural Maine: Free range

While on the phone this morning discussing with Smith's career counselor the particular challenges and advantages of launching a new career from rural Maine, the doorbell rang and standing there in the snow, which we haven't shoveled yet, was a smiling high school classmate with the gift of a dozen eggs. She would not accept any money for them and simply said that her mom hoped I'd like them. Regardless of where my career goes while here in Bucksport, at least we shall have fresh eggs. (And another friend dropped off a cord of wood earlier this winter.) Also of note: I answered the door in my long underwear.