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  • Last fall Dave Palmer died. He was a second generation sugarer who learned from his Mom. He was a sugaring friend, someone who I could drop in on anytime and receive a warm welcome. I don't have any pictures of Dave. If I had ever tried to take one of him I'm sure he would have declined and probably would have muttered something like, "I ain't exactly the Cover Girl type."

    Dave ran the town grader, mowed ball fields and the school grass and was the local dog warden. He once captured my wandering lab -- sans new license -- and kept him overnight. "Gosh, Geoff, if I'd a known it was yours I would have brought her home. She's friendly type though isn't she? Spent the night in my house!"
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