On Friday, during a short motorcycle ride, I met the current owner of the first house I lived in as a child.
We clicked pretty quickly. We both like building birdhouses. And talking about the subject. (Me? Endlessly.)
[“Les Knotts shows me house number 2,309. He uses a lot of plywood and rescues it from a local chair builder”: photos GH]
[“My old backyard is home to an old purple martin house.”]
[“Les builds blue jays and cardinals too. His last blue jay travelled to Kentucky.”]
[“A four-plex from rescued sheets of plywood”]
[“Older models adorn spruce trees that were about 8 - 10 ft. tall when I lived in the house.”]
My motorcycle ride to deliver a broom and spot a few birdhouses turned into quite an adventure.
Truth be told, I had trouble sleeping on Friday night because of the many memories flooding my mind.
***
Coming soon: How I helped Rhonda Wettlaufer through hard times, and the story behind the curling broom.
I like keeping people in suspenders, eh.
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