Like the sheep we are encouraged to be, we head to the basement for fellowship after the memorial service for my Future Farmer of America Father-in-Law, who was lucky enough to die weeks before covid lockdown, so friends, family, farmers, Methodists, teachers and students could gather around the crockpots to pay respect, share stories, and say good-bye. Church ladies hurry and worry about having enough creamer for the coffee, plates
Strong as an ox, quiet as a mouse: a life runneth over
The church pews are filled with country folk in their Sunday best, even though it’s a Friday. Some of the old-timers wear clean coveralls, some their Sunday pants, belt, and suspenders, pulled up way too high, white tube socks revealing boots fresh from the barn, maybe a collared-shirt, tucked in tight like they just visited the restroom and no need to re-tuck for the rest of the day. Or at