remained beside the gate.
Behind him stood our childhood home.
The yellow curtain Mom had hung in the kitchen window years earlier was still there.
I looked away before the road blurred.
I rented pasture from Mrs. Nielsen, a widow north of Elba.
Her husband had been a friend of Dad’s.
She agreed to rent me enough grazing land for five months.
The cost came to thirteen thousand dollars.
It was money I’d never expected to spend.
But my cattle needed grass.
Then I visited the local agricultural cooperative.
Jeff,
