A continuing tale of life in the boonies
Last week the phone rang at the Community Center. "Hullo," said a voice, "I have just moved to town and would like to bring my kids to the Egg Hunt."
"What Egg Hunt?" I asked eggspectantly. "We don't have one, but maybe you would like to help organize it," I added just before the telephone went ‘click’ in my ear. Anyway, from that, the eggsellent idea was hatched of an Egg Hunt in Fernald Park on Friday, 1st April, all fooling aside, at no eggspense to the public.
Let me eggsplain. At 11 a.m. parents are eggshorted to bring their pre-school children on an eggscursion to the park on Central Street where the kids, after an eggshaustive and eggshilarating eggsploration of the eggspanse, may eggspose up to 75 boiled eggs, 10 chocolate eggs, and five colored plastic eggs containing small prizes. No one of the appropriate age is eggsclued from the eggsitement.
Following this eggsuberance, at eggsactly 12:45 p.m., all readiness-aged kids have an invite eggstended to them to make a similar eggspedition and repeat the eggsercise. Note that although some of the eggs will be eggstremely well-hidden, to prevent eggsasperation others will be fairly well eggshibited. Thus there will be no need for eggscavations, and no eggspletives are eggspected - just ensure that your children are there for this eggstravaganza of fun. The rain date will be Monday, 4th April. (Psst! Time to make an eggsit! - Ed.)
When one thinks of boiled eggs, it is perhaps forgivable if one's mind should stray to Mr. George Kourkournas, possessor of Farmington's most famous shiny dome. It is George's birthday on Egg Hunt Friday, and so I take this opportunity to wish him many happy returns and to thank him for the hundreds of hours of service he has poured into the community, since returning to town last year to take up a position in the school system.
At first he was the fact that launched a thousand lip syncs, as his anti-drug peer group took its message around the Seacoast, with skits to music. He was next remembered as a lighthouse in the storm of Hay Day 1987, when, despite the sheer awfulness of the weather, Mr. K. and his devoted band stuck to their booth and raised over $400 for his after-school programs. Since then, every available spare moment of his time, it seems has been devoted to Farmington's young people. George whirls with unflagging energy and irrepressible cheeriness between theschools, the 500 Boys Club and the Community Center. Chaperoning dances, organizing basketball, selling tickets, showing love and concern where ever he goes, he is the good wind that blows no ill. Everyone in Farmington who is familiar with all that you do, Mr. Kourkournas, wishes you a very happy birthday indeed.
Like all the best towns, Farmington, N.H. has a mineralogy club, which was founded by Main Street teacher, Mr. Randy "Dynamite" Bois, a rock hunter eggstraordinaire. (Cut that egg stuff out - Ed.) He, and three students from the junior high will present a workshop on the subject at Kingswood High in the near future. The group has just completed a hike up Mt. Major to study the glacial effects present in the Lakes Region of the state, and at the moment they are raffling an Easter basket to raise money to go on a field trip to Ruggles Mine, once an important source of feldspar.
To test the students' knowledge I asked a series of penetrating questions such as "Would you be able to tell the difference between feldspar and a donut?"
Club president Angie St. Onge thought that she could, as feldspar, she alleged, was black.
"So is a burnt donut," I persisted, as a vision of John Fitch ineggsplicably … (cont. on page 94)
Following last week's shocking revelation about the growing cult of gerbil-spinning in the Goodwin Library, phones nearly rang off the hook, the citizenry nearly stirred from its arm-chair in front of the T.V. and a scathing petition of protest labeling the perpetrators of this barbarous act as unspeakable cads, was nearly thought about. But relax, good people. No need for hasty action and more righteous outpourings, for a solution has been found, The gerbils' cage has been moved northwards by a distance of some seven feet, bringing it within the eagle-eyed gaze of library personnel.
With the Reagan-Gorbachev summit just announced, and the Nicaragua/Contra talks underway, it is encouraging to mention that negotiations have opened up between Farmington Corner and Abu Wodchopper's revolutionary rednecks, OFFAL. Although the latter's opening position is that they will settle for nothing less than complete editorial control and the eggspulsion of such features as C for Cranks, on account of it giving the Town of Farmington a bad name that it does not deserve, no way, under any circumstances … a compromise position may be worked out over the coming weeks.
Next Week: The Stars of Charlie Brown. Have you bought your ticket yet?
March 27, 1988
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