We don't write papers, we build scrapbooks
It seems time goes a little faster now than it used to. Back in my youth it seemed like once summer was upon us, it had no end. We would work and play for sunny days on end. I don’t ever remember keeping track of the days. Summer was endless.
My dad had two farms back then, about 20 miles from each other. One was a dairy farm, which was where we lived. The other was a beef farm where dad had a herd of Black Angus cattle. Grandpa took care of the beef cows, while dad and mom and the rest of us lived on the dairy. We made hay all summer long on both farms. I remember getting the morning chores d...
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