By William Crooks
I have a groundhog living under my shed. Or is he a marmot? Or is he a she? Are marmots the same thing as groundhogs? Last summer, a deliveryman knocked on my door. Parcel in hand, eyebrows raised and smiling, all he said was “marmotte” (in French) as he handed me my package. I had seen the little guy often, too, when pulling into my driveway. He would never stick around, quickly running back to what I assume must be his burrow. There was a little path in the grass showing his regular route. This begs the question: given the new bylaws soon to be put in place to “densify” Lennoxville, does the marmot’s burrow count as a separate familial dwelling? Or an unlawful extension of my shed? Do I need to widen my driveway to make it accessible to firetrucks, in case the worst happens and my furry neighbour needs help? I would discuss it with him, but he seems to be a bit agoraphobic. Perhaps I should give borough president Claude Charron a ring and make sure everything is up to code…
The weather was great and I was off to meet five other Good Eggs (a record!) for breakfast at Café Aragon in Sherbrooke. The parking is not great; I had to overshoot by a few blocks on Galt Ouest for a spot. Aragon sports a very nice wooden patio. The patio is relatively new, but I haven’t been to the place in a few years. The dining room is cozy and probably fits 30 at maximum. We ate inside. Handsome paintings line the walls and the place is named after Louis Aragon, one of the founders of early 20th century surrealist French poetry. Apparently, it started as a venue for poetry, but began serving food at some point and things really took off.
