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January 11, 2017

            At 4:30 on Friday, Tadferd pulled his old pickup off Highway 78 in Adamsville. After following a few directions he had scribbled on the back of a Boo Boo cake wrapper, he arrived at Holbrook Farms.

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January 9, 2017

It was late in the evening and the whole sky was bright red from the sun half hidden by the horizon. Tadferd was sitting on the fence that separated his Uncle Mitch's property from his Grandmother Earcell's garden. 

"That's a fine goat ya’ got there," Tadferd said to Di...

January 8, 2017

                        My dog, Zip, and I, arrived at my brother Tadferd’s hunting cabin one August evening at around 7:30 p.m. Knowing that we had at least a half hour before th...

January 8, 2017

“I gave the bags to your mom.”  To those of you not involved in the following account, that sentence seems rather benign in nature.  To those who were there, that phrase still throws our hearts into instant arrhythmia.

It was mid-October 1999.  I, along with my gir...

January 8, 2017

       

   Dish's hands were stacked on the end of his garden hoe. His chin rested on his knuckles and his eyes were closed against the afternoon sun. He was smiling and thinking of his Grandma's icebox and the cold Mt Dew that was in it. He thought abou...

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February 3, 2017

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January 8, 2017

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