posted by Jason Barrett on Jul 3
We were five then–Andrew hadn’t come to us yet–and that summer night as we slept in the Volkswagen camper, we suddenly awoke to noise.  Someone–or something–was prowling around our camp site. Jerry scrambled out of bed, and I was close behind as he snatched up a flashlight, opened the camper door and pierced a beam into the black night. There they were–raccoons–fat ones with their nimble fingers still around the 3-pound-coffee can into which I had placed the home made cookies–think they were
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