I've been boxed.
I love boxer puppies. Young dogs, in general, are full of so much spunk that it's hard for me to dislike any of them, but I'm definitely not into the little nervous yippy types. An old friend had two boxers, and I had a fantastic time walking and taking care of them from time to time.
But they come with a punch. Boxer pups have a tendency to stand on their hind legs and jab a paw directly into your midsection (if you're lucky), and if you're not braced for it, man, do you feel it. One such creature happily and slobberingly charged me on the CCC road at Upton State Forest, and although I knew it was coming I stood there and took the jabbing. OOF! Ah, that brings back memories...
Apart from the obvious and ubiquitous Civilian Conservation Corps history, I found stonewalls and cellar holes. The more that I do, all across Massachusetts, the more I want to travel back in time to see the homes that once stood in these woods. Maybe it's the constant chomp of the research bug, but I always yearn to know more every time I see stones piled up in unnatural ways.
Come on science, get with the program and get the time machine done! After all, it's been more than a century since H.G. Wells came up with it. On second thought, I think I could become obsessed with it, and might never spend much time in the present. My wife would constantly be telling people, "Sorry, he's not here - he's in 9th century England watching Alfred the Great fight off the Danish invasions. But I'm sure he'll be back before he leaves for the Renaissance."