Jeanne M. DePaul

I’ve determined I come by my love of bingo like I come by many things in my life: It was passed down to me by my mother. In my family, we had a home bingo game as children. It was one of those small wire spheres where small bingo balls tumbled around as you turned a crank that rotated the sphere, and we placed colored discs over matching numbers as they were pulled.

A near-incident earlier this summer in which I narrowly avoided stepping on a resting rattlesnake prompted a conversation with fellow editor Jeanne M. DePaul, who had thoughts about what the snake might have experienced. My companion and I, inadvisably walking after dark in Lewiston without a flashlight, were alerted to the snake when it vigorously employed its signature sound to announce its presence while scooting out of the street to safety under nearby vegetation.