When we closed down our bird-hunting/trout-fishing cabin, Andy’s Acres, for the winter we said a solemn goodbye to several departed friends—friends whose presence had unfailingly warmed our souls and buoyed our spirits. They’d given the last full measure of devotion, and their names should not be forgotten. Hail and farewell, then, to Jeff, Mark, Craig, and Woody.
Yes I am a pirate, two hundred years too late
The cannons don't thunder, there's nothing to plunder
I'm an over-forty...