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Behind Pappy, we see a corner of the home of the Gravettes,
our neighbors to the west, a sweet older couple. He was Harvey.
Their place, fronting on Waterman Avenue,
still (2003) stands, as does the
Tjossems’. Both, alas, in
sadly deteriorated condition.
We installed and nurtured English ivy on the westward
fence
and on the strip of ground between it and the driveway. It
prospered (except for one famous episode with the telephone
company) and harbored innumerable snails. Having put out,
sporadically, snail-baits of a toxic sort, we never did experiment
with the culinary possibilities, although we toyed with the idea.
We cherished our Francophile credentials, after all.
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