I met Lizzie late one sultry summer afternoon beside a fallen cottonwood whose roots had given way when the river undercut a section of overhanging bank—an ideal place, my twelve-year-old wisdom told me, from which to fish. Indeed it was. Until Lizzie appeared. Immediately we had an argument. The argument involved a stringer of […]
August 25, 2014
From The Write Place at the Right Time, Summer 2014 Although individual southeastern Wyoming farmers had milk cows and sold fresh milk to our neighbor Schafer’s dairy, and others raised a few steers to butcher for beef, the area wasn’t suited for cattle grazing. Some of the dry land farmers kept horses to plow their […]
April 21, 2017
0