One night back in the summer, Louise, Rodney and I stopped to see Russell and Neva, whom we have all known in one way or the other for decades. Yet, we go ages without seeing each other. It’s a crying shame, as Mama would say.
We piled out of the car, exchanged hugs and hellos, then climbed two short steps and settled down on the lovely porch of the hundred-year-old house that faces a neatly manicured pasture and is shaded by trees much older than any of us. Rodney and Neva took the swing and the rest of us plopped down in wicker chairs and rockers. Read More»