Dear Mister Ed

Thanks kindly fer returnin’ the $2 I sent you.

With the hard times on us, I’m grateful of the free inscripshun.

Drew a small map to help find my place when you do yer rounds come Wensday.

Jest leave ‘er in the covered bucket at the end of the lane.

Must say, yer little paper’s worth the price, even if its a tad on the arty side.

You got some fine riters in the stall, Darrol.

My fav’rite is that Doo-da fella from up north.

Can’t decide if I like his pomes or his pitchers best, but he surely does make me smile.

Still ain’t got the electrick hooked up. But lots of days I ain’t the only one in the dark fer sure.

Power company says there doin’ the best they can. That’s a mite bit scarey. What if its true?

Maybe Youcon Energy shud lay off its hamster and get some some new tecknology.

That woodchuck from Ontaryo that tells the weather seems pretty relyable.

Bye the bye, I meant to tell you how surprized I was by some of the changes in Whitehorse since I left.

I cud scarce beleave what I seen down by the river side. And what I didn’t see.

Seems a lot of the old-timey places got tore down to make room fer a splashy new warshroom.

One thing that got my eye was all the pretty statues the City put up at Rondy-voo time.

But I can’t figger why on God’s green earth they made ’em out of snow.

If I recall, the Youcon can get rite warm bytimes.

Why wud the City spend all that money on new statues evry winter? A few months later, all they got is meltwater.

Unless the guvamint’s went and repeeled summer on you.

If thats how they plan to fix the global warmup, they’d best rethink that one again.

Folks look forward to those two or three June days when its hot enuff to enjoy an ice cream.

Least they did before the Darey Queen shut down.

Somethin’ else that near knocked my eyebulbs out was that fanssy new Big Jim up the hill.

Gotta confess, I got the wrong idea at first.

See, lots of places have Gamin’ Scenters nowadays, even towns a lot smaller’n Whitehorse.

So when I clapped eyes on this one, I figgered to lay down a few bucks and get a little ackshun.

Imajin my surprize when I walked in there was no games at all.

No slots, no Black Jack, no Texas Holdup, no Crown & Anker even.

Just folks in shorty shorts and mussel shirts. Liftin’ and runnin’ and gruntin’ till they got vanes popped up evrywheres like a bag of Orvall Reddenbaker.

Don’t reckon I’ll be back soon, but it’s a grand lookin’ place.

And with all that bawdy heat, it must be real cheap to run in winter.

Bye the way, Darrol, thank you fer the kindly note about my sister Wilma passin’ on.

Yer pal,

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