I recently took a trip to my parent's farm near tiny Wabasso in southwestern Minnesota and I couldn't have had a better time.  First of all, not too far outside of the Twin Cities on Highway 212 the air began to smell fresh and I could see there were hay bales and acres of cut alfalfa along the road.  Sweet.

I spent the morning with my very dear friends, Monica and Luci, who I've known forever.  Monica and I have great-grandparents in common and we know we're related because we can both touch our noses with our tongues. 

 Monica was complaining about how the sumac she got from Melanie is growing out of control.  Once, when Monica and I were visiting the cemetery on a Memorial Day, she looked around and said, "Dang!  I wish I would have brought my spade along!"  Pretty creepy, right?   But she had seen a clump of sumac and wanted to dig some up to plant in her yard.  The graves were safe.  So why is she complaining now??

Out at my parent's farm, I sat in the gazebo with my mom and we watched a doe with her spotted baby walk across the field on the edge of the yard.  We also watched my old dad hauling branches he had cut that morning.  He always sings when he works and if he doesn't know the words, he'll just make them up.

My dad is 91 years old (mom's much younger) but he keeps on going.  He very recently lost his sister Elvera - and she was 101! Mom is usually out there working with him, but we had a lot of visiting that had to get out of the way first.  It was a wonderful, wonderful day.