Destry, I didn't have to sell because my mother was a fisherman's daughter married to a RCAF bomber pilot who joined up Sept. 1, 1939 and was shot down by Germany's top nightfighter July 3, 1942 and spent the rest of the war on the escape committee---he made three unsuccessfully---in Stalag Luft III.
We even had oranges when the general merchant could get them; our neighbours could afford them only for Christmas stockings. Geese in those days were scarce on our shore, not polluted with them as we are now. Same $2 pair for whistlers, coots, eiders, oldsquaw, bluebills and blacks, the money an invisible commerce.
All the best, Destry. I anticipate seeing your shining face again.
