I was reading the funnies yesterday and “The Other Coast” had a comic about some people catching rainwater in a barrel from the gutter of their roof. A squirrel had washed into the barrel. (That was the joke.)
As I looked at the panel I was carried back to my Ohio childhood, when my dad rigged up a barrel to catch rainwater. We lived out in the country and our water was held in a cistern. We had to have water delivered in a big pump truck every few months, so we considered the rain barrel a smart economic move.
The picture in the comic actually looked like a caricature of our house and rain barrel, so it didn’t seem that funny to me. But it brought out some wonderful reminiscing.
We also ate squirrels that my dad shot in our woods, but to my knowledge we never caught…
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