Milton and Paul Morell

How Sweet It Is

Milton and Paul Morell
Milton and Paul

It is another cloudy April day in Whatcom County and Milton and I are ready to tackle the eastern part of our map—making the trek across the county towards Lynden. We start at Natures Path and park our car. I’m thinking, “Hey, we’ll get in a couple miles today; maybe even finish our map.”  It was not to be, but more to come on that later.

Milton and I enjoy the pastoral scenery going down Sweet road, and, after a quarter mile, spot a familiar drive way: the home of my Aunt and Uncle Morell. My thoughts turn to the 1995 British film Cold Comfort Farm and the strange magnetism family dwellings can have. I detour into the driveway, chuckling to myself as I do about having seen “something nasty in the woodshed”.

After traversing up the long winding driveway to the front of the house I stop, and hear noises coming from the shop. Milton finds him first. My Uncle Tom is working away, as usual, and informs me that later he will be delivering furniture to my Grandmother at Spring Creek where she lives. We laugh to ourselves at the thought of having to visit my slightly senile, rather inappropriate Grandmother, whose temper tantrums we’ve all endured over the last several months. She calls him Paul, although his name is Tom, and happens to think that he makes for poor company—a feeling she expresses to him quite regularly.

Uncle Tom invites me inside after my request to use the bathroom, and I find Paul, my cousin, sitting in the living room. He is restraining his two friendly (to humans and other well meaning animals) min-pins. Milton and the min-pins have a luke-warm relationship. I keep him under close watch and Paul and I talk. Paul plans to travel to southern China in late summer. I wish him well and discuss the possibility of combining our efforts through Jesus’ Economy. He walks me to the end of the driveway, min-pins in tow.

By this time I’m ravenously hungry, although I haven’t said anything to him. We bid our farewells and I continue down the road. And then it hits me….like a slap to my empty stomach. The air is heavy with a sweet, syrupy smell. I realize immediately what the smell is: Natures Path Chocolate Bars are in production. How can people live on such a road. They must be craving chocolate all the time.

All I know is that thoughts of swirly, drippy, gooey, chocolate syrup were making the last half mile to the car seem annoyingly long.

Until next time, Happy Travels!


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