Old times there are not forgotten

The lot was across the road from the house. In the lot were the stable and the corn silos. The pasture was large and lay between a field of cotton and one of tobacco. Behind the pasture was a tobacco barn.

The pack house was along the edge of the side yard next to the barn and the old carriage house and the pig lot. An ancient anvil which had been on the farm since before my great-granddaddy’s time was still in front of the carriage house, no longer used, but too heavy to move easily. The pond was further back, separated from the backyard by a winding sandy road that circled back behind a grassy field where we took Star, our cow, each morning in spring and staked her out to graze.

Grandmama always reminded us not to let Star graze near green onions, but to stake her in

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