Large Knuckles

My husband says we’re better off here in New Paltz, where not a living or dead soul knows who we are. Start fresh, he says, no busybodies to disturb our peace. Our peace! But he’s right, of course, he must always be. There are no busybodies or even humans anywhere near our new post-and-beam rental, with its squared-off heavy timber, each post carefully fitted and joined together at the knuckles and secured, fist-like, by large wooden pegs.

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