“Double, double toil and trouble. Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.”
Macbeth Act 4, scene 1, 10-11

To understand this story, some background is necessary.

I grew up spending summers at a cabin on a large body of water near Green Bay, Wisconsin. This summer community was comprised mainly of upper middle class and a few wealthy residents. There was a road that split the community east and west. The east-siders tended toward the more pretentious with fancy lawns and landscaping. The west-siders left their property more rugged and woods-like. My father was a west-sider who refused to “fancy up” his property. His friendly nemesis was an east side father who was frequently trying to get my dad to plant grass and cut tree limbs. He watched carefully for anything to complain about.

My Dad was a doctor whose undergraduate degree was in entomology (insects). He always had gross collections of bugs, snakes and mammal skeletons hanging around the house that created a great deal of amusement among our friends as we were growing up. Only my brother John understood this proclivity. In fact, as a side note, my dad and brother built a cage with a found corn snake outside this cottage which lasted until my mother found a baby snake inside on the kitchen window sill.

This sets the scene…

One day, my father saw a road-kill badger on the highway, so he stopped to pick it up. He decided he wanted a badger skull for his mammal skull collection. It never occurred to him that any of this might be considered a little strange. Anyway, he takes this big cauldron down to the beach, fills it with water and starts a fire under it. After a while, it starts boiling and he puts the badger’s head into it to render the skull. Obviously, this takes an exceptionally long time. Just like Shakespeare’s witches, he is down there on the beach stirring his cauldron with this big tree branch. Up walks his nose-high friend who wanted, of course, to know what was going on.

“Hey, Lyle, what are you doing?”

Dad replied, “Just boiling a badger.”

For the first time ever, his friend could not think of anything to say, so he just turned around and headed east with a blank look on his face. My Dad went back to stirring his cauldron.

I do not know whatever happened to that badger skull, but recently my daughter gave me one of the most thoughtful gifts I have ever received,when she found a badger skull somewhere and sent it to me in a glass case.