I was fixin’ to tell you last week more on the trip I and Wilferd took to Skaggway, but then Merna came by unexpeckted and drug me out to March Lake to look at the swans.

What a site that was! With the bare nakid eye I cud’nt make out much more’n patches of white on the snow, so Merna gave me a loan of her spyglasses and tole me look fer two diff’rent kinds of swans, long-neck and V-neck.

It took a moment to figger out she was joshin’ me. They was all the same kind, jest that some of ’em had there pointy behinds wavin’ in the breeze whilst they hoovered up food from under the water.

It may take a spell, but I’ll get Merna back fer that.

Anyways, it was a grand time all together, and so was the trip to Skaggway. The drive down was rite pretty, but when I seen that long, long hill at the end, I thot we’d need parashoots.

Dang thing makes the Two Mile Hill look like a speed bump.

We spent two days sprucin’ up Wilferds boat fer summer, but in between times it was almost like we had the town to ourselfs. Can’t beleave those streets will soon be as thick with torrists as ticks on a dogs rear.

I’d love to come back when the trains are out and about, but theres the little matter of getting’ past the boarder again.

You see, I ain’t ever been to the US & A but that one time about 40 years back when I took a run to the Boston States to get parts fer the old John Dear combine.

All it took to get over the line back then was a wave and a howdy. Truth is I never had a pass port, nor no need of one.

To make things worse, I don’t even have a pitcher ID card, since the PEI govamint ast me to turn in my lisense when I flunked the eye test after that little run-in with the three mail boxes.

So when I and Wilferd got to the boarder, it was like we hit the Canada Sense-us. The feller was nice enuff, but nosey as my old Aunt Jess. He ast near evrythin’ you can imajin, short of what hand I use to eat with.

Showed him my Sin card, my Youcon Farmacare card, my Whitehorse Liberry card, even my last fone bill. But when he seen my birth sertifficat, I had to point out on a map that Prince Edward Island reely is a part of Canada.

Not sure he beleaved me when I said that’s where the hole shootin’ match got started.

He finely let us thru, but he made it clear I’m gonna need a pass port next time out. I did’nt tell him about the ace up my sleave on accounta bein’ kin to the new pressident.

But I’ll tell you more on that another time.

Yer pal,