I grew up on a small farm in the village of Palmyra, Maine. The house while standing was the oldest house in the town. The only plumbing was a hand pump on the left-hand side of a black slate sink. The barn out behind the house hosted the outhouse. I remember thinking we were rich as we had a three-holer. Oh, the memories, I think I was around 10 years old when we had our first inside bathroom which consisted of a flush and sink, but no tub or shower. In the late spring and summer, we would go down to White’s Pond and bathe on a regular basis. In the winter we would heat water on the gas stove and take our baths in a big tub. Usually, once a week on Saturday nights so we would be squeaky clean for Sunday morning church. I spent most of the good summer days fishing at White’s Pond. I would catch bass, white perch, and hornpout near dark. Once in a while I would get really lucky and catch a brook trout. This is just a glance back at a few of my hometown thoughts. More will follow as