The Tidal Pool Photograph

05 July 2026

1182

R. Linda:

We decided to visit the outer Cape and take the bike ride through the Cape Cod National Seashore to the Cape Cod Light. It was a perfect, sunny day for a bike ride, with a nice breeze off the water, and everyone seemed delighted to do something as a family. 

We spent most of the morning and early afternoon biking and sightseeing. We worked up hefty appetites and headed off for lunch. We went to a place called Captain's Choice in Truro, with tents outside where you could eat in the great outdoors while enjoying the sights and sounds of the Cape. 

Because Tonya collects shells and sea glass (she makes garden faerie houses out of them), we went to Skaket Beach in Orleans. A staffer at the Captain's Choice suggested we go there. She said she has found a lot of shells, sea glass, and sand dollars. The kiddos would enjoy chasing the crabs, and the tidal pools were good for cooling off. 

We went next door to the Salty Market for snacks and refreshments to take with us. 

By the time we arrived at the beach, the kiddos were ready to expend some pent-up car energy, and off they tumbled out of the Saturn and ran. The three of us adults followed at a more leisurely pace, me hauling the goodies, ever on the lookout for gulls. 

Tonya and Mam collected a variety of shells, and were having a great time. The kiddos finally found a few crabs, and it was the crabs chasing the kiddos, then the kiddos chasing the crabs. I warned them to take caution with those things, and for once, they listened to me, so no howling kiddo with a crab attached to his finger, or worse, a nose. 

We were wrapping up our day when Tonya and Mam brought to me attention a bride and groom on the beach with a photographer. They were posing for pictures when two tourists joined us to watch. The wind was blowing the bride's veil, and I could see the photographer taking advantage of the setting and thinking about what wonderful photos the couple would have. I mentioned that out loud, and the two newcomers joined in, and we all became quite friendly. So friendly, they asked me if I'd mind taking a few iPhone pics of them standing on the rocks. Well, why not? So I happily agreed.

A perfect ending to a perfect day. We had fun, we just met two people to chat with, and all was right with the world of Gabe.

The couple, Dave and Margie, got all set. I was determined to get the perfect angle, but as I backed up without looking, I was ankle-deep in the tidal pool. The photo was magnificent. I, however, looked as though I'd just escaped a shipwreck.

Because just as I clicked off the snap, I took a cold plunge into some surprisingly strong currents. Heavy waves came out of nowhere! I found meself gasping for breath in the freezing water and struggling to get me feet back under me, all the while holding the iPhone over me head like it was the Crown Jewels. The waves were deceptive — I mean, who knew? Somehow, I managed to keep the phone bone dry. Me, on the other hand … I looked like I'd either gone down with the ship or been spat out by a whale!

We all laughed, including the wedding photographer, who shouted to me, too late, that the spot I was in wasn't a good spot for a photo. The kiddos have not let me hear the end of it. Every time we'd pass a rocky shoreline, they'd ask to get out so I could take a photo of them and a plunge for meself at the same time. Yeah, ha, ha, funny people. 

Here is the sorry wet mess I had become, photo courtesy of Mam (who is always so helpful when you don't want her to be). I didn't know she was clicking away. I was checking to see if I got the photo and the phone worked, and yes, I did, and it did.

Embarrassing as hell, but I managed to keep the phone dry

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved

Message In A Bottle

04 July 2026

1181

R. Linda:

Trying to have a good time, I was determined to forget the past two days. The kiddos wanted to go to the shops in Hyannisport, so off we went. I spent a lot of time in the fudge shop and probably spent a year's salary on fudge, but it was so worth it. The two older boyos took off on their own while Tonya and Mam dragged the wee one with them to the boutiques and such, which I be sure he did not enjoy. I gave everyone a time to meet up for lunch, and then we'd go back to our private beach for the day. 

So far so good.

When we got back, I was the first to hit the beach. I was sitting there, sunglasses on, watching the waves and lost in me thoughts when me eyes jogged me brain that something was bobbing on the waves.

"Not again," I muttered to meself. I squinted me eyes trying to see what it was this time. "Probably me sub sannie from the other day." I mused. 

As it drifted closer towards the shore, I saw it was an amber bottle. Right away, I was thinking people are such prats for not putting their garbage in the bin, instead of throwing it into the ocean. I got up to retrieve the offending thing and put it in the trash when I saw it was a corked bottle sealed with red wax. 

I picked it up after chasing it in the waves for a few minutes, and wouldn't you know it, it was a message in a bottle! Well, I was thrilled, I was. What could the message be, I wondered. I was expecting pirate secrets, or something that told of a treasure, I don't know, me inner kid was coming out. I took it back to where I had me deck chair and used a sharp-edged rock to cut through the seal. Then I thought, no, I should wait for the family to come out to share me great find. 

When they arrived, I held up the bottle for them to see what I had. I shook it so they could see the rolled paper inside. Everyone was in disbelief, but then they were as mystified as I was. 

"Open it, Da, please," The wee one pleaded.

"Okay, give me a moment." 

Everyone was chattering and wondering what was written, so with a flourish I popped the cork, turned the bottle upside down, and slid the message out. 

"Okay now, are ye all ready?" I smiled.

"WE ARE!" They shouted in unison.

And so I unrolled the parchment, yes, R. Linda, it was parchment, and I was now certain it was some old treasure map! 

I had a toothy grin on me face, I was sure, and I shouted out the contents as me smile faded. 

"It says, 'Please recycle this bottle.'"

"Ohhh," they all said in disappointed unison and walked away to set their places up on the beach. 

YUP, I should have trusted me first instinct

"Well, then," I said to no one. I walked up to the porch and recycled that bottle in the trash, I did.

"Mission accomplished," I announce upon me return. 

I was so mad at meself for letting that episode get the best of me and in front of an audience, ok, me own family, but still. 

I decided I was not in the mood to sit on the beach, so I told everyone I was going for a walk down the beach. 

"If you see any interesting seashells, will you bring them back for me?" Tonya asked sweetly. 

Well, for sure, so I left her to her romance novel, the kiddos super-soaking each other in the surf, and Mam putting sunblock on herself.

I wandered down the beach a ways collecting shells, telling meself I'll turn around "in another minute." I walked quite a way and had a vast collection of shells. I thought it was an excessive collection of shells and should start back. But then I saw another shell a few yards ahead, and so I went and picked it up. It had a crab inside it that was none too happy to be lifted in the air with its home and dropped into a pile of shells in me shirt. Instantly, I saw it, and before it could latch onto me fingers, I put it back. I told meself that was a sign, so I would head back.

Only when I turned around, the incoming tide had cut me off from the other side of the beach. I looked around and realised I was way down by the dunes, and an outcropping was above me. What to do? I would have to swim, I thought, but then I'd have to ditch all the shells. I was looking closely at the water, but it did not look very deep. I stood there for a bit contemplating me next move. I could walk back across it before the tide came fully in. Easy-peasy.

I took a step forward and was startled by a sound above me. I looked around and saw a busload of tourists getting off at the overlook to take in the view. I realised I was part of the view. 

Just as I started off, a rogue wave soaked me to the waist, just as all the tourists got to the overlook. There had to be forty strangers watching me. I was hit with another wave, this one bigger and more powerful, which almost sent me flying off me feet. I caught me shirt full of shells just in time to keep them from being swept away, when suddenly forty strangers applauded me efforts.

I did the only thing I could: I waved at them and continued on, being buffeted by the waves all the way across. When I reached the other side, I could hear them clapping for me. I tell ya, anytime I am caught in an embarrassing situation, I always seem to have an audience I don't need. 

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved

The Dangers Of Swimming Near Jellyfish

03 July 2026

1180

R. Linda

Well, I got off to a rough start yesterday, so today I was determined no more mishaps of the Murphy's Law kind. I got up to another beautiful day, even though the weather report said we were in the middle of a heat wave. I was at the shoreline, the surf pounding, the air moist and cool, and I didn't care about heat waves or anything else but sipping me coffee while wading in the cool surf. 

It was then I saw it. A huge jellyfish was floating on top of the water. Uh oh, those things sting. Me first thought was to warn the kiddos not to go near it. O'Hare was sleepily coming toward me, towel over his shoulder and swim trunks on, which meant a morning dip in the sea. 

"No, no, you'll have to wait until later, there, Sport. See that thing floating on the water? That's a jellyfish, it is." I warned him.

He squinted his eyes and looked hard at the thing bobbing closer. 

"Looks kinda funny for a jellyfish." He observed.

I looked again, and it looked the same as when I first spotted it, so I asked him what was funny about it.

"It's too big and . . . I dunno, looks off."

I craned me neck to see better, and ok, it was large, which made me feel it was dangerous. 

Meanwhile, Guido came out dressed for a swim as well. Before I could open me piehole, O'Hare pipes up and tells him, "Da thinks that's a jellyfish and we shouldn't swim today."

"I did not say you should not swim today, I said not right now because of that," I pointed at the still bobbing transparent mass.

"What is that?" Guido asked, squinting his eyes at it.

Before I could say anything, since the three of us were focused on the 'jellyfish', there was a splash, and there, in the water, was me very own little apple-cheeked, grey-haired Mam going for a morning plunge. 

I started shouting at her; the boys pointed at the jellyfish, and she stopped, turned, and looked at us as she bobbed in the water alongside the jellyfish. She was an arm's length from the thing, and suddenly she reached over and got a hold of it, to me horror. 

"Ye mean dis?" She held up a clear plastic bag.

"Oh," I said, me face turning red, I knew from the heat I was feeling that me embarrassed red face was coming out. The boyos were beside themselves with laughter.

Yeah, the jellyfish, AKA dead plastic bag

But it didn't end there, I be sorry to say.

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved

The Seagull Heist

 02 July 2026

1179

R. Linda

After the sub shop parking faux pas, I got back feeling relieved not to be facing unknown strangers who were privately thinking I was a dummy for parking in a boat launch.

I said nothing about that incident, hoping I, meself, would forget the embarrassment and get on with having fun. Yes, fun or something akin to it. I was optimistic that nothing else could go wrong and that I was just knackered from the long drive, was all. 

While I was gone, the family had settled in, and Tonya and O'Hare had spread a large blanket on the sand, and everyone was eagerly awaiting their subs. Mam took the bag of subs from me, and I got the drinks, and out we went to the family setting. I looked out toward the ocean, there they were sitting patiently with big smiles on their faces, as if to say, Da, you done good. Yeah, if only they knew.

Anyway, everyone was chatty and animated, just what I had hoped for. A happy family, enjoying each other's company and their surroundings. The ocean breeze was slightly strong, blowing the sub wrappers about our sannies, but we were managing. At least they were managing, that is, until the uninvited arrived. 

I was carefully unwrapping the perfect sub sannie, trying to keep the breeze from blowing sand on it, when I looked away for a second to answer Guido's question, "Did you get mustard or mayonnaise on this?" when a seagull swooped in and stole me whole sub. I sat there in stunned disbelief. What had just happened? I didn't have long to sit there and wonder, because everyone started shouting and waving their arms over their heads to scare off the flock of birds that suddenly descended on our happy little scene.

It was hell, I tell ya! Everyone ran for the house, subs and drinks in hand, while I scooped up the blanket and anything on it, then swiped with it at the attacking horde of glutonous birdies. 

I saw the one with me sannie, fighting with another one for it. It was dropped in mid-flight and splatted all the delicious sannie ingredients down over the ground. What a waste of a perfectly good sannie went through me mind. 

It was a frightening situation

Me Mam shouted at me from the sanctuary of the porch, "They want dessert!"

As I fled, I noticed O'Hare taking photos of me fending off the horde and laughing his fool head off at me. With a family like this, is it any wonder I am the way I am? No help, just smart remarks and lots of pictures after the fact, which I can't live down.

Yes, as ever, Mam was not a big help. No, "Come on quick, I'll hold the door for you," no, no. No help, just smart comments. SHE went inside as I trudged up the stairs, fending off a flock of 40 hungry gulls. No door was held open, no, I had to wrestle me way inside and slam the inner door, so I didn't have to hear them and their beating wings against the screen. 

It was, I'd calculate, an hour later that it was safe to go outside. BUT as time went on, we knew not to take food with us, because as soon as one of us stepped out the door, we were unceremoniously set upon by the white-winged army.

So, lesson learned. What could happen after THAT? Well, I tell ya, once I get me composure back.

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved

Holiday! Yeah, For Everyone Else

01 July 2026

1178

R. Linda:

"Bring it on!" That's what I said to the TV weather guy. I was watching the weather while packing me bags for a holiday at the seaside. The weather guy was bemoaning how millions of people were going to suffer in 100-degree and possibly higher temperatures for the next few days. I smiled at him, even though he didn't know that, and said to meself, "But not I."

Yes, smug I was. I was thinking of the cool, moist breeze one gets standing next to the ocean. How cool it is and sometimes downright chilly, so no sweltering for this guy, oh no. For old Gabe, it was going to be absolute enjoyment and a brilliant time away. Much needed, I might add.

I had rented an Airbnb right on the beach. That meant no finding a parking space, no lugging beach things, no walking over hot pavement, just the pure joy of walking out one's door right to the sand, with no one to step over, the beach all to ourselves. 

The kiddos were ecstatic. They were looking forward to the arcades on the strip, the lobster rolls, and the new friends they might make. For the three old people, Tonya was particularly looking forward to reading a good book, lying out in the sun, and enjoying the peaceful sound of the waves hitting the shore. As for me Mam, she was looking forward to eating out, relaxing on the porch and thinking about nothing. For me, it was digging me toes in the wet sand, lazing around with an Arnold Palmer, and being free of Dragons, Weasils, and the like. 

We left the woodsy abode in New Hampshire for the sandy shores of Cape Cod. It was a long drive, made longer by an unbelievable traffic crawl over the Sagamore Bridge and onto the Cape. Once in Bourne, it was a drive west to West Dennis Beach, where our lovely and I mean lovely rental awaited us. 4 bedrooms with 3 bathrooms, that should be perfect with 3 boyos, the bathrooms I mean. We had a pullout bed in the living room, and the wee one got that, and for some reason, he didn't protest. I found out later because he was up all night with headphones, playing video games on the TV in the living room. I started to wonder why he looked like a raccoon every morning. He wasn't sleeping!

The Traffic on the bridge

We got there mid-afternoon, and once we dropped our luggage and looked around the house, we decided to go out for a late lunch. It was such a beautiful day that I suggested that I go get subs and we have a picnic on the beach. Splendid idea, they all thought, so I took orders while Tonya looked up the nearest sub place, and then I went off while everyone else unpacked. 

I found the sub shop, but because it was a lovely day, everyone and their mother was about the place. I circled for twenty minutes before finally finding what looked like the perfect parking spot. I backed in and was marvelling I didn't see the parking place the first circle, or the second for that matter, so I was in me thoughts, and it was a moment before I realised everyone was staring at me. I looked around and saw I had parked in a boat ramp. Before I could move it, a man crossing the road next to me smiled and said, "Planning to launch that Saturn?"

"Well," I said, "that's one way of looking at it." But I turned around, got me vehicle out of the space, and spent another twenty minutes circling until the same man who had asked me about launching my Saturn waved for me to follow him. He had a bag of subs and was leaving, so I slowly crept behind him like a stalker. 

He got in his vehicle, moved out and waved me in. I parked and sat there for a few minutes, hoping no one at the open-air sub place would recognise the jackarse who parked in the boat launch.

Yup, that was the beginning of me holiday away from the silliness that seems to find me. I should have known it wasn't going to get better, but worse.

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved

Bats Out The Window

27 June 2026

1177

R. Linda:

THIS was brought to me attention by me former flasher neighbour, Lois:

Yes, indeed, she was surfing her hometown FB page when she stumbled across this, and, naturally, Lois always has an opinion, so she rendered it.

She asked me when I moved into me new abode, whether I had bats or flying squirrels, and which service I used. Well, it was flying squirrels since I be a favourite with the squirrel community. However, I did tell her I recently had a bat in me attic, and I used an open window and a broom to get it out. Yes, at the time I told me mother-in-law that her broom was gassed up, the window was open, and the runway was clear, so it was time to fly home.

I was sorely tempted to find this request and tell them how I had successfully got rid of the old bat, without spending a pence. Then it occurred to me that they probably wouldn't appreciate me joke. This be New England, and as I was reminded several times, New Englanders have no sense of humour or a funnybone. And no matter how many times I protested that I was not a born New Englander, I was a blood Irishman, it fell on deaf ears, or let's be honest here, ears that can't hear, or don't want to. WHICH brings selective hearing to a whole new level.

So I resisted the temptation (and oh, it was a strong temptation). These days, discretion is the better part of not getting thrown off the local FB page. But then again, I don't have an FB page to be thrown off of and probably couldn't get to that request anyway. Also, I have to take into consideration that a real bat would be far more appreciative than the figurative ones. 

Then again, these days you can't call anyone an old bat without people reporting you, a few demanding an apology, and others recommending a licensed wildlife rehabilitator, because they can't admit they didn't get the joke, and still others telling you that you need serious help. 

I decided to keep me fingers off the keyboard. A real bat would have taken the hint and flown out the window. Humans, in me experience, are much harder to relocate. 

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved

Seven-Foot Doctors And Other Mysteries

26 June 2026 

1176

R. Linda:

I am beside meself. This Dragon visit has got the best of me, it has. I want one day off from not hearing strange sentences issuing from the mouth of the Dragon lady. Usually, she reads a headline wrong, and what she spouts makes Tonya and me question her, and then we have to look for ourselves to see the Dragon lady read the headline wrong. Why is this? As you know, she's as blind as a bat. 

Now, her hearing is going. Just yesterday, I took her to the Genny (general store), and as we passed the church, there was a sign out, so I jokingly told her she should go to church on Sunday. "The sign says 'Worship at the lake this Sunday'. Perhaps you should go. The lake be a pretty place."

She looked at me aghast and said, "Horseshit at the lake? It says horseshit? What? Why are they bringing horseshit to the lake? I don't understand you New Englanders at all."

So now I be a New Englander, not "that Irishman." I don't know which is better. While being "that Irishman," I get told how I can't speak English correctly, how I dress like a hooligan, how I be lazy as the Irish are known for (this be news to me), what a drunken lot we be, etc. Now, as a New Englander, I am cold, impersonal, imperfect, more interested in my tractor (I don't have one) than in people, and on it goes. 

I have ignored all this for the most part to keep harmony in me abode. Tonya does defend me at times, but I defend meself more often than not and do a decent job of it. However, the nitpicking doesn't seem to let up, no matter what I do. If she isn't at me, she's reading off headlines that are inaccurate, and that drives me up a pole, it does. Now, this second problem, not hearing what is said or understanding what is said, is starting to get to me. 

I was just this morning saying to Tonya as she was fixing snacks for the wee ones' day at day camp, I said, "Kids make nutritious snacks all by themselves," and before I could say, he is capable of making his own, the Dragon pipes up with this gem: "Since when are kids ingredients in snacks?"

She got a "Huh" from both of us on that one.

I should have been warned, just by that. But I have taken to reading the headlines so she won't. It has backfired royally on me.

There was this. I said, "Tonya, the hospital is being sued by the 7 foot doctors, finally," and Dragon's comment was, "Oh my, you have tall doctors here." I am not even going to explain this one. 

And this: "'Police begin a campaign to run down jaywalkers,' I think that's a good thing." And her response: "Oh my, that's aggressive action if ever I heard of any. What is wrong with you, Gabriel?"

Tonya's summer class of kiddos has been following the panda bears at the zoo. And she said to me this morning how disappointed the kiddos were because "Panda mating failed, so the veterinarian took over," and there was a loud, "OH MY GOODNESS ME! MEN!" We knew what she thought. 

Then, also this morning, the bridge I take as a shortcut to the highway was still closed. I said to Tonya, "Ah, the red tape is holding up the bridge, that means detours for old Gabe." The Dragon looked up and said to me, "How does that work? You have tape strong enough to hold up a bridge?" 

Is it me? I don't think so.

I don't know whether it be her eyes, her ears, or just the Dragon refusing to let the world make any sense. Maybe it be all three working together in a grand conspiracy to finish me off.

I used to think patience was one of me finer qualities. After this visit, I know patience has a breaking point, and mine be somewhere between "horseshit at the lake" and "seven-foot doctors."

The sad part is, every morning I wake up determined to keep me mouth shut. Then I open it just once, and out comes another Dragon gem that leaves Tonya and me staring at one another, wondering if we've somehow slipped into a different universe.

So is it me? I don't think so.

Then again, if the Dragon tells this story when she gets home, I'll probably find out I've been feeding veterinarian-made panda snacks to jaywalkers while holding up a bridge with red tape. And somehow, I'll still be "that Irishman" who can't speak English.

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved

An Irishman vs. Technology … And A Squirrel

25 June 2026

1175

R. Linda:

After the bear and moose fiascos, I decided to install a smart camera system around the abode. Me Mam thought it a "ridiculous waste of money," and me wife couldn't see the need.

"You have the trail cameras, why do we need a full-fledged surveillance system?"

Well, why indeed? Why not? Everyone seems to be getting them, if all the commercials on the telly are any indication. 

I went ahead and did it anyway. I went with a top-of-the-line company. Cost me a small fortune, but I had 24/7 surveillance not only for home security of the two-legged kind, but for fire as well. Cameras outside, cameras inside, sensors on windows, fire detectors on the ceilings, you name it, I've got it. 

At first, nothing much went on that I knew of, but I wasn't home all day, me apple-cheeked, grey-haired, sainted little Mam was. I'd ask if she went out and if she set the alarm.

"Oh, fur sure I did dat." She would say like she wasn't interested.

"Did you get any alerts, there Mam?" I would ask.

"Nooo, nuthin'." She'd say like she was distracted.

It wasn't until I was off on Friday that things began to happen. I thought with the first alert on me phone, that it was a good thing I had the system in, now I knew we weren't safe!

When the alarm went off, I had been in the lounge with me Mam, her knitting, and me watching the news. We both heard the sound of an alert on our phones, and the main system box was making a noise, so I looked at her, me eyes wide, me eyebrows raised to me hairline, and she, yes, SHE, just sat there, continuing to knit like nothing was happening. 

"Do ye not hear dat?" I said, me nervous Irish accent coming out.

"It's nuthin'," she said, continuing to knit. "Luke agin an ye will see wot be da culprit, ye will."

I looked down, and the alert read, ANIMAL DETECTED OUTSIDE. You know me first thought was moose, then bear. If it was the bear, what was it stealing now? I ran outside. It was a squirrel!

After the fifteenth alert, I named the squirrel "Fernando" and began tracking its movements like a detective. Soon I knew more about Fernando's daily schedule than I did me own. The damn thing has got so used to me it doesn't seem to care how close I am to it. It chitters at me like it's laughing, but I don't care. I would be too embarrassed in front of Tonya and me Mam to admit this was a colossal mistake, the security system. 

I even have a chart to track Fernando and family, yes, he has one! And I do this religiously, like it's the most important thing I have to do to keep me family safe from critters, squirrels in particular. It's the only way I can save face, or so I thought. I catch them laughing at me behind curtains, and pointing at Fernando or me, or sometimes both of us, roaring with laughter like I can't hear them. 

Recently, the motion sensor went off. I grabbed me coffee and me notebook, but couldn't find Fernando's chart. Acting quickly, I marched outside, determined to finally prove the system had some value. There, sitting on the deck railing, was Fernando. Not only was he waiting for me, but the little bastard had also somehow dragged off my chart. He sat there holding it in his paws, staring me dead in the eye.

"Give that back," I said.

Fernando chittered, flicked his tail, and disappeared into the woods with six days of carefully documented squirrel intelligence. It didn't help me ego when me Mam popped her head out the door and said, "Lukes like he's collectin' info on you now!"

It was then I realised the truth. I hadn't installed a security system to watch the wildlife. I'd installed a security system so a squirrel could spend all summer watching an Irish fool slowly lose his mind. It was Fernando running the operation, not me! The worst part of all this is that I still check the alerts every morning, just in case he comes back!

Tonya even gloats over me with this: "What did you expect living in the sticks? This isn't the city where, yeah, a security system is a good idea; this is Wild Kingdom, where animals run the show."

But habits are hard to break.

Just this morning, the motion sensor went off at 6:14 a.m. I opened the app, and there was Fernando, sitting on the deck rail, staring directly into the camera.

I swear on me Ma's good frying pan, the little fecker was holding a ripped piece of me chart and looking at his watch. I'm no longer entirely certain which one of us is under surveillance.

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved

Suddenly, THIS Happened

24 June 2026

1174

R. Linda:

I consider meself an ordinary Irishman living in the wilds of New Hampshire. I moved from Northern Ireland to pursue the great American Dream. However, living in Boston was hectic, and, like being back in Northern Ireland, there were a number of jovial trips every night that me co-workers pulled me along to many local pubs. On the way to becoming an alcoholic, I decided to move to rural New Hampshire for peace, solitude, and a break from people asking me to help them move furniture.

As you know, living "up" here has its crazy times, but enough peaceful ones; it was the right choice. Me time recently, as you well know, in Boston town was quite strange, unnerving and bizarre to put it mildly. I came home to start a few days of well-deserved peace with some time off. Only, to your delight, I might add, I did not get that well-deserved time to meself, no, I did not. Instead, I have become famous in me adopted hometown and even outside it. It has gotten so bewildering and inconvenient for me to go anywhere without some stranger approaching me or asking to have their photo taken with me that I actually feel sorry for celebrities. 

It all started the very first morning of me time off, it did. I decided to take me morning joe to the front deck to enjoy the early-morning fresh air and relax. Imagine me surprise when, upon opening me front door, I discovered a massive bull moose standing there. 

I jumped back, me coffee flew in the air to the carpet, and I raised a "WHOA WOOEY", but the sleepy heads in the house were not aroused. 

The moose was not beside the deck; he was ON the deck AT the DOOR. Blocking the door, actually, and if I didn't know better, about to ring the doorbell. We stood looking at each other, neither moving. My excuse was that I was too much in a fright to move, that he wouldn't walk in. So what to do? I treated me situation as any reasonable Irishman would: you talk to it.

"Good Morrow to ye! Any chance you'd shift your fine self a foot to the left?"

The moose stared back, not moving, not uttering a grunt, nothing. I stepped back and gently swung the door shut. I know! I shut it in his face, where are me manners? Anyway, I ended up on the back deck and was joined by the Dragon lady. I talked up a blue streak to get her to go to the front deck. No, I did not tell her what awaited at the door, I just thought the element of surprise was in me favour. I tried with all me family to open the front door, but no one was so inclined; they all settled into the chairs on the back deck, enjoying the sunshine. I got up to refresh me cuppa joe, and I could see the outline of Mr. Moose in the door glass. I wondered why no one else noticed that something BIG was at the door, but they were all half asleep.

By the time someone did go to the front door, Moosie was gone. I started to tell them what I encountered, but thought better of it; no one would believe me. However, I was in luck, not the kind of luck everyone hopes for, no, no, the typical Murphy's Law luck that applies only to meself, which be no luck. Every day, and all week, it became a daily occurrence: every morning, the moose was at the front door. And by the time everyone got up, he was gone. 

When I finally, reluctantly mentioned this bizarre morning ritual, no one believed me. They all laughed, they made jokes at me expense. SO, I got it into me head to leave apples to draw the thing to stay, so I could call one of them to witness that their family member was not ready for a trip to a mental facility. 

Okay, so every morning the moose is there to eat the apples, and he's soon expecting them. One morning, I had my smartphone ready to click off pics when the UPS driver arrived and scared Mr Moose off. He saw the animal take off to the woods and said to me, "I've seen that moose often enough, I started to believe he owns your house and you're the caretaker."

Oh ha-ha, not funny. Well, I finally got me photo, see here:

And there he is, Bullwinkle at me door

Finally, the family believed me when I showed them me phone shot, but not until they all got up early the next morning to see for themselves, and yes, there he was.

Things began to escalate when word got around that we had a "docile" bull moose at our door every morning (thanks to me, kiddos, telling EVERYONE). He was dubbed "The Porch Moose." People started driving down our long, remote driveway to take photos. 

I'd go to the General Store/Post Office, and I'd be recognised.

"Hey, aren't you the Moose Guy?"

And every time I answer: "No. Just resemble him is all."

I'd overhear them naming the moose. They called him "Donald." About me, they said, "He says he's not friends with our Donald, but he continues to leave apples for him."

And another added:

"I hear that Donald is going to file squatter's rights to that deck of his."

Mr. Moose was becoming more popular than me, he was!

The local news rag did a story and had the affrontery to call me the "Moose Whisperer of New Hampshire." They all believed I had some mystical woodland expertise when all I was trying to do was drink me morning coffee in peace.

The local TV station arrived. I repeatedly explained that I've never whispered to a moose in me life and that the animal mostly ignores me. Now, please leave the moose and me alone, go away. 

The final straw came when the town historical society invited me to give a "talk" on the moose and explain what "living with a moose was like." WHAT? I don't live with a moose, and I be sure me wife wouldn't like to be referred to as one. 

Me resounding NO did not deter the attention. No, the Boy Scouts descended upon me abode in the wee hours of the morning, pitching tents and building campfires in me front yard in anticipation of Mr Moose's arrival. I looked out the window and said to me wife, "What the hell is going on?"

Well, the Moose did show up, stole a tray of hot dogs, and disappeared into the woods. 

"Moose eat hot dogs? Who knew?" Tonya said, watching this from our bedroom window. No, gee Gabe, we could be sued if anything happens involving a moose and any of those youngsters. No, no concern at all, just the question on moose and hot dogs. I tell ya!

Every morning I be hoping to see less moose. And every morning there be more moose. 

Me Mam just asked me what I was doing. I told her I was writing to you about our resident moose. She had the nerve to say, "Good Luke wit dat. It sounds like da sorta tale should be tole beside a fire wit a pint in hand and a straight face the entire time."

Gee thanks, Mam.

🍀🫎📖

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved

What Be Going On?

23 June 2026

R. Linda:

1173

Being off for the week, I had taken advantage of Amazon's Pre-Prime sale. I was not going to because I was still missing a parcel I ordered from last February, which Amazon swears was delivered to me address. I couldn't find it anywhere, even after searching. It wasn't an easy search because we had like 4 feet of snow, and the drifts and ploughed piles were even higher. 

But I did order anyway. I figured no snow (at least not yet, but you never know, this being New Hampshire and all), what could go wrong, right? Well, I'll tell ya what went wrong. I received a notice on me phone that two of me packages were marked "Delivered." I see there is no photo of where they were delivered, and right away a chill went up me spine, that I would never find where the packages were hiding. I spent three days searching a 10-acre property, and nothing. I created maps and search grids in me frustration. Me boyos laughed at me; they thought I had finally lost it, and to be honest, it felt like that to me, too!

Then, on one of those frustrating days, I walked the long, wooded driveway to me mailbox, thinking that perhaps the packages had been left there. Nothing in the mailbox. So I turned around and started the long trek back. As I was rounding one of the bends in the driveway, I saw this brown box in the trees. I was gobsmacked I was. What be this? I walked over to the tree, and sure enough, up in the branches was a box with that smile logo and the word AMAZON written on it. 

No way could I reach it, and the tree was a tall sapling, so there would be no climbing it. I shook it, though, and nothing. I had to walk all the way behind me house to the shed to get a ladder, and then all the way back, halfway up me driveway, to where the tree was. I had a time getting the ladder steady because the ground was soggy from the good drenching rain we had had. Finally, I got up it and swiped the box from the tree branches. Guess what? It was me February delivery, a delivery of socks no less. 

I surmise the delivery driver placed it on top of a snowbank that later melted, leaving the box sitting in the tree. 

Meanwhile, I still had two packages out there, and I had no clue where they were. I complained to Amazon, and they refunded me money. SO I ordered the same two items again, hoping this time they'd be delivered to me garage area, which I set as me drop-off preference. 

Well, I hate to tell you, I got a "Delivered" notice with photos this time, but the packages weren't where they were supposed to be. Nope, notta one. Tonya ordered some things as well, and the same thing happened to her. Even me, apple-cheeked, grey-haired little Mam, had packages disappear. Of course, she blamed that on the fairies. She's Irish, so what can I tell ya? 

Tonya blamed it first on teenagers, then, after a rather harrowing report on the Boston News station on vandalism at the Reflection Pool, she decided it was the government stealing her goods. For a smart woman, I don't know how she can buy into these conspiracy theories. Me mam decided it wasn't fairies, it had to be the neighbours. Oh goody. 

With help like that, I knew I'd have to investigate on my own. I set up wildlife cameras, yes, I did. Four of those suckers I smacked on tree trunks and left for a week. Meanwhile, other deliveries arrived and disappeared, so I was hot to see who I got on me camera. 

I put the surveillance card in me computer slot, and the two women gathered behind me to look over my shoulder at just who was taking our "stuff."

"It be dat Lenny person down the road, you no da one wit da limp," Mam said in anticipation she was correcto mondo.

"Nah, it's that kid next door, Barry Jr. I knew the moment I laid eyes on him, he couldn't be trusted." This from the wife. 

The screen displayed a number of photos. I clicked the first two; the motion sensor had activated, and I saw nothing. I flipped to the next photo, and there, the overhead light had come on, revealing our thief. Yes, there it was, the culprit standing by our garage, the sensor light illuminating him, holding an armload of packages and sniffing the air. 

Caught red-pawed! Suspect departs with stolen packages

"I knew it!" Me Mam shouted. Yeah, sure she did, all that talk about fairies and neighbours, yeah, she knew it NOT. 

It was like he had nabbed the goods and was looking around, as if checking whether anyone saw him. Then he was standing upright with the loot in his paws, looking like a burglar caught in the act. The beastie wasn't merely investigating packages. No, he had already taken possession of them. There he stood under the sensor light, bold as brass, holding me parcels like a shopper leaving the post office. 

I clicked through the batch of photos, and there was Mr Bear heading for the woods with our parcels. I clicked down to a date I knew I had a package delivered that wasn't there, and sure enough, there was that bear, package and all, and as I went through the photos, there he was disappearing with our parcels deep into the woods!

"Well, I think we now know who our package-stealing thief is," I said. 

The next morning, I went out to the woods and followed a path he had made, and it went for a ways, it did. I came upon an entire distribution centre full of unopened boxes. Of course, the bear had no interest in the contents — it just enjoys stealing deliveries. 

There were boxes from Amazon, Walmart, Chewy, and one from a place called "Tactical Viking Survival Supplies." That one made me nervous, so I left it alone.

Bear Distribution Centre

I found all our missing packages. I also found a package of replacement socks for me. In fact, judging by the number of socks scattered around the clearing, I think half of New Hampshire's missing footwear was sitting in that bear's warehouse. 

Then I spotted something that made me stop cold. There, tucked beneath a fallen log and covered in pine needles, was a faded Amazon box. The shipping label was nearly gone, but I could still read my name. The order date? Three years ago! I opened it right there. Inside was the garlic press Tonya had accused me of never ordering. I stood staring at it while the birds chirped and the wind rustled through the trees. 

When I got home, the wife folded her arms. 

"Well?" she asked.

I held up the garlic press. For the first time in our marriage, she looked genuinely shocked. Mam squinted at it. 

"Dat proves it," she said.

"Proves what?" I asked.

"The fairies hired the bear!"

And you know something? After everything I'd seen that week, and after the past few days of crazy Scottish humour, to this Irishman, it was the most sensible explanation I'd heard. 

Gabe

Copyright © 2026 All rights reserved