February 14, 2015
February 14, 2015
IVAN AND THE ANNUAL FUND
One frosty, winter morning, I got into my car for the short ride to the Worcester Art Museum. As I passed through the intersection of Park Ave and Salisbury Street, I glanced to my outside, rear-view mirror and at first sight thought it was covered with snow. When I realized it was a white envelope tucked into the frame of the mirror, I quickly rolled down the window to rescue it before it could blow away. Upon arriving at the museum, I opened the envelope and found an annual fund check from my neighbor Ivan Spear. The next day I thanked Ivan for his generous gift. His response: "You saved me the price of a stamp".
IVAN AND THE SKUNK
Shortly after moving to 10 Massachusetts Avenue, I went into the garage, which I had just cleaned out, only to find several yellow trash bags ripped open and their contents strewn across the floor. The scattered trash was not my only surprise, for in the far corner was the culprit: a large skunk. As the black and white creature slipped out the side door, I was amazed by its size; its tail was about a foot long. The next day my neighbor Ivan Spear asked me if I had smelled a skunk. I told him that I not only smelled it, I had a close encounter with it. His eyes lit up as he told me his plan to capture the skunk with a trap he had been using to catch squirrels. "But what about the smell?" I asked. Ivan's response "You don't understand; when the skunk goes into the trap it can't raise its tail and therefore can't spray anyone." When I told him that I was still somewhat skeptical, he informed me that the previous owner of my house was plagued with a skunk nesting under the back porch and now was our opportunity to eliminate the problem. Ivan soon produced the trap complete with a large dollop of peanut butter and placed on the patio outside my garage. Just about sunset I happened to be in the garage and heard something at the trap. Looking out the window, I could see that it was the same large skunk that had been in the garage the previous day. In fact, the skunk was so large that Ivan's trap could not accommodate its long tail. Fortunately, I was safe inside the garage and had no intention of disturbing the content diner. After licking his plate clean, the skunk backed out of the trap and left the area. The next morning I reported the event to Ivan, who examined the trap only to discover he forgot to set it. "But don't worry;" said Ivan, "he'll be back!" So that afternoon Ivan reset the trap with another helping of peanut butter. An hour later I checked and found inside the trap not a skunk, but a squirrel. This was no surprise to Ivan who had made it a practice of capturing squirrels in an effort to control the population in the neighborhood. Undaunted by his first two attempts to capture the large skunk, Ivan kept setting the trap next to my patio, hardly a welcome addition to that summers garden parties. Finally, one day I discovered inside the trap a small, dead skunk. Although the size of a squirrel, it seemed to satisfy Ivan and put an end to his pursuit of its my larger relative.
Jim Welu
January 2015
One frosty, winter morning, I got into my car for the short ride to the Worcester Art Museum. As I passed through the intersection of Park Ave and Salisbury Street, I glanced to my outside, rear-view mirror and at first sight thought it was covered with snow. When I realized it was a white envelope tucked into the frame of the mirror, I quickly rolled down the window to rescue it before it could blow away. Upon arriving at the museum, I opened the envelope and found an annual fund check from my neighbor Ivan Spear. The next day I thanked Ivan for his generous gift. His response: "You saved me the price of a stamp".
IVAN AND THE SKUNK
Shortly after moving to 10 Massachusetts Avenue, I went into the garage, which I had just cleaned out, only to find several yellow trash bags ripped open and their contents strewn across the floor. The scattered trash was not my only surprise, for in the far corner was the culprit: a large skunk. As the black and white creature slipped out the side door, I was amazed by its size; its tail was about a foot long. The next day my neighbor Ivan Spear asked me if I had smelled a skunk. I told him that I not only smelled it, I had a close encounter with it. His eyes lit up as he told me his plan to capture the skunk with a trap he had been using to catch squirrels. "But what about the smell?" I asked. Ivan's response "You don't understand; when the skunk goes into the trap it can't raise its tail and therefore can't spray anyone." When I told him that I was still somewhat skeptical, he informed me that the previous owner of my house was plagued with a skunk nesting under the back porch and now was our opportunity to eliminate the problem. Ivan soon produced the trap complete with a large dollop of peanut butter and placed on the patio outside my garage. Just about sunset I happened to be in the garage and heard something at the trap. Looking out the window, I could see that it was the same large skunk that had been in the garage the previous day. In fact, the skunk was so large that Ivan's trap could not accommodate its long tail. Fortunately, I was safe inside the garage and had no intention of disturbing the content diner. After licking his plate clean, the skunk backed out of the trap and left the area. The next morning I reported the event to Ivan, who examined the trap only to discover he forgot to set it. "But don't worry;" said Ivan, "he'll be back!" So that afternoon Ivan reset the trap with another helping of peanut butter. An hour later I checked and found inside the trap not a skunk, but a squirrel. This was no surprise to Ivan who had made it a practice of capturing squirrels in an effort to control the population in the neighborhood. Undaunted by his first two attempts to capture the large skunk, Ivan kept setting the trap next to my patio, hardly a welcome addition to that summers garden parties. Finally, one day I discovered inside the trap a small, dead skunk. Although the size of a squirrel, it seemed to satisfy Ivan and put an end to his pursuit of its my larger relative.
Jim Welu
January 2015