Since
the sanctioning of Muskrat Falls my relationship with Uncle Gnarley had
returned to a more normal state. Once a
week we would share a 'wee dram' while he proceeded to educate me on some of
the finer aspects of the liberal arts.
These discussions, as one sided as they may be, were always a welcome
diversion from everyday life. As I was
driving down the shore I wondered what would be the topic of this evening’s
discussion.
I
opened the door and saw my old friend hanging, what appeared to be, a framed
picture on the wall.
"Nav...
as usual your timing is excellent. Tell
me if this is level to the mantle?"
"Good
to see you too, Uncle Gnarley. It is
level, but what is it?" It was
clear that this was no portrait; it seemed to be a legal document of some sort.
