Date: Sat, 13 Jan 2024 21:54:09 +0000 From: Griz Subject: Harvard Comes To Montana - Chapter Thirteen "Harvard Comes To Montana" - Chapter Thirteen By Griz umgriz@protonmail.com Good Afternoon, Men; Strange weather going on all over the globe. I hope each of you, your family, your friends, and your animals are safe and well. "Hi" to my new friends in The States, France, England, Wales, Scotland, Holland, Italy, Australia, The Philippines, Canada, Argentina and Mexico! Thank you all for reading the story, and writing to tell me your thoughts about it. One of you asked how I conceive the story lines. Honestly, it's simple for me, at least for this story. I have a strong memory. Not `Rain Man' strong, but I can remember details from specific events in my life, particularly my younger years. I have gone to different locations in the town and county, and I can remember being there are some previous point, and something significant that stuck in my noggin at the time. Sometimes I'll remember things that I'd long since forgotten. I like those the most. Although I said only a small part of the story was autobiographical, I think I'm going to retract that statement and say `some amount' of the story is real, and some is fiction. Anyway, I'm sittin' here doing all this barking, and you could be reading from someone far more interesting than I am (because fiction can be more interesting than fact-----but not always). I hope you enjoy the chapter. With Gratitude To---And For---Each And All Of You; Griz *** The following story is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under the age of 18 or if this type of fiction is prohibited in the location where you are reading this, do not read any further. All characters and names are creations of the author. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Please show your support for Nifty, a great organization that gives opportunities to all types of authors to express themselves. To find out how you can contribute, go to donate.nifty.org/donate.html *** *********************************************************** Anders and I wobbled across the pasture back to the house with an empty trailer and satisfaction that Sebastian and all the animals had averted a potential disaster. Sam Knox said the problem wouldn't be resolved anytime soon, but that could mean an hour, a day, or the duration of the fair. My paternal great-great uncle helped build the 4H barn when he was the regional director of the organization. I doubt it was to provide a judging venue for this long, but still, it stands; with or without meeting current electrical codes. Still no combines or crew. We were early, but sometimes, they were, too. Last year, they were actually parked up on the county road during the night. My Pa gave them holy heck for not coming down and waking us up; they could've at least gotten off the road, and staged for work the following day. We'd been lucky to have the same crew for the past five years. If Miguel, Jorge and Ignacio were here again this year, the Sunday picnic would grow by as many men they had with them. With the trailer returned to its place behind the barn and my truck next to Mom's and Anders' rigs, we walked into the barn to see Mom hand-nursing the pups. She looked happy, as she always did when she was doing something with animals. "Thanks for leaving the note, Boys. How was town?" "We stopped at Eva's and then onto the fairgrounds. Your Youngest was missing his moo-cow." "SEBASTIAN won me a purple ribbon and $50, thankyouverymuch! And Mom, it was good we went; all the animals were sent home. Some electrical issues with the livestock barn. Lights won't turn on and stay on." "Damn. Any casualties? Where's Sebastian?" "None. Mr Knox was adamant about getting the animals out of there. We took Sebastian and Jennie Tuss' heifer out. Just got home from dropping her off. Sebby is in the big pasture. He has the whole thing to himself. Probably the happiest he has ever been, particularly after being in that stall with strangers all around him. What'd we miss here?" "Nothing big. Jorge called; they're planning on being here at 2PM. Six hours. I already have 40 ham and cheese sandwiches made. Well, mostly. I'll add lettuce and tomatoes once they get in and settled. They can choose their own condiments. How's the barn bathroom? Enough toilet paper and towels and stuff in there?" "Anders and I stocked it already. Plenty of everything for everyone. Are they staying at the Trail's End Motel again this year?" "I'm not sure. Probably. I think we'll see them for five days; what do you boys think?" "Anders says five; I say four, maybe five. Are we betting again this year?" "Of course! Same stakes?" "25ยข is all I'm worth." "Hear that, Mom? Jeffy Boy finally wakes up and smells the roses! He's worth a quarter, and he knows it!" "MOM!!!" "HAHAHAHA!!! You boys are gonna make this harvest go so well! Just keep that attitude going, and we'll get through this like we got through everything else this year. I hope it goes this well for our neighbors." And that was all I needed to segue into the Tom's thing. "Mom, you know those 500 acres that line up with the King Colony's land?" "Oh, yeah. The `red-headed stepchildren acres', as your dad's dad called them. What about them?" "We haven't planted on them for the past two seasons, except forage grass for cattle. Doesn't take long for a visiting herd to go through 500 acres when 300 head each week is on `em." "They're too hilly, and harvesting grain is a pain in the ass. Your dad wanted to try soybeans on them, or hops. He didn't want to use it for pastureland, since it's so far away from the corral. He felt it would be too much work for just the three of us to be running miles out there and back, and spending an entire day driving our own few cattle home. Now.....it's still just the three of us, Boys; but that's no less work." "Okay. Mom, Anders, I'm gonna tell something I just learned, and I think I have a solution that'll be a win-win for three families." Mom put one puppy down, which Lola Cola immediately licked and nuzzled. She knew and trusted us with puppies, but she also liked reassuring the Little Ones just exactly who Mommy was. Mom looked at me. Anders, too. "When we were delivering Jennie Tuss' heifer, Tommy was there. He'd ridden his horse over from their place. I asked him what he was doing at the Tuss operation. He said, `the agrivultures' were talking with his dad and mom. ADM is there." "Oh, no.....damn. `Agrivulture' is a good word for them. Let me guess: they're making a preemptive offer. My guess is someone at the bank knew they were trying to extend their loan. Some snake is getting a kick-back from ADM for a purchase, and the bank doesn't have a foreclosure on their books. Dad had his suspicions, and I don't disagree. So what else?" "Okay, here's how I see this. We have 500 acres that share a fence with King Colony, and our land is the same as theirs-----which they grow soybeans on. Same thing Dad wanted to try, apparently. We sell the Hutterites those 500 acres. That'll keep us from having to decide what to ever do with it, they get an instant crop opportunity, and we charge a fair market value. Heck, they were already trying to buy our land. With the proceeds from the sale, we buy Tom's parents out, again, at a fair market value. They have something like 897 acres, give or take. They have a stream on their land, fed right from an artesian well there. Their land is nitrogen-rich from all the historic forest fires at the base of the mountains. We could grow legumes, corn, just about anything there. They're not bad farmers; they just got caught up in bad commodity prices and low yields for two years, and then got stuck with some unexpected equipment costs. The bank won't cover them for another year." Anders had been thinking, his characteristic `teacher pose' doing the talking for him. Eyebrows knitted together, arms crossed, face slightly down. "I obviously have not been around here for awhile, but if I can guess something: their land at plus or minus a thousand acres, probably minus, also connects to our parcels. Kind of the way Oklahoma has a panhandle over the top of Texas." Mom nodded, but was looking out the window. "You're right. In fact, their land was once part of the bigger Tuss operation, before they became pork producers and scaled way back. Jeff, you talked only with Tom about this? Do Jon and Kelly know you had the conversation?" "They do by now. I told Tommy to tell his parents just to listen for now, and agree to nothing. I just wanted a chance to talk with you two first. Okay, so my idea is to sell the Hutterites land that we don't use to its potential, and with that sale, buy out Tom's folks' farm. BUT: we don't work it ourselves." "So what, we lease it back to them?" "Right. We negotiate a ten years lease-to-own contract, allowing them to buy the land back. Now, they might not be able to do that in only ten years, but they can save enough to then buy it all back from us through a bank for the appraised value. And if they can manage that sooner, we have lost nothing. I'm not making any of this up; I remember Dad and you, Mom, talking about the Hankins and the Delridges doing the same thing in the past." "You certainly paid attention, Jeff; that's exactly what they did. But we were not involved. I don't know about this..... What you're talking about doing is laudable, but remember that we are on our own now. The majority of our business experience is gone. Your grandparents, too. Your uncles are not healthy enough to offer much in the way of advice or guidance, I'm afraid." "Mom, I didn't shake hands on anything, and Tom's folks haven't been foreclosed on. Yet. I'm honestly just thinking of options. Maybe none of them are viable, but maybe something could be. If the best thing for them is to sell to ADM, then that's what they should do. Tom was saying that he'd never seen his dad cry before, and his mom isn't doing well with this, either. They, including Tommy, know no other life; no other living. Am I behaving like I'm a ten-year-old trying to rescue a stray dog? That's not my intention at all." Anders and Mom looked at each other for a moment. Mom stood up, but didn't move from the table. "Look, Boys.....I wanted to do this sooner or later, but maybe `sooner' is better. I just wanted the fair over first. Oh, well; it'll be over Sunday, and today's Friday. Early start is all. Give me a moment....." Mom left the table and ducked into what had been a pantry when the house was first built. It was now the only lockable door within the house, and served as a little office. Mom returned with Dad's MacBook Pro. They kept physical ledgers and all, but when it came to having everything open in only 300 square inches, this worked well. Graphs, columns and rows, everything; and year-over-year all in files, from 1928 to today. It took a lot of time to extrapolate and format all that data, but ultimately, it had been worth it. This was, first and foremost, a business. With the laptop opened and this year's tab at the forefront, Anders and I saw information we could not have dreamed of. Our parents, and Dad's parents before them, had built a business that was very successful, indeed. Minimal debt, and that was primarily for the sake of tax credits against revenue gains. Almost everything was paid for, and in fact, two major implements were budgeted for in the coming year. Now, you can't see what I was seeing, and I won't reveal everything; however, I could see how easily we could sell 500 acres to the Hutterites and buy Tom's folks' farm without ever going to the bank for more than the draft of one cashier's check and a deposit of a another. And to say `hi' to my favorite substitute teacher, Mr. Raiver. Something else I noticed: two LLCs. Each had a tab. Both ours. One was filed in Fergus County, and one in Hill County. The former you're already more and more familiar with; the latter is up on the state's highline, just below the 49th Parallel. Havre is the county seat. About 12,000 people there. To the West of Havre is a small town known as Hingham. Fewer than 1,000 hard-working ag folks there. To the West of Hingham is where my maternal great-grandmother's grandparents lived and homesteaded. 2,000 acres of nothing but hard, Red Durum wheat on land as rich, fertile, flat and vast as.....well almost all of Hill County. Tumbleweeds could cross from one side of the county without ever encountering a grade up or down----and often did, with nothing to get in their way, either. Their farm was successful, all through the Depression and later years. Irrigable land, easy access to two railroads, and grain silos every other mile or so. They also owned a bank, more of a savings and loan, for farmers and ranchers. They carried a lot of people from 1929 to the end of WWII and remained solvent, eventually merging with a bank out of Great Falls in the 1970s. AND: For all these years, we've done the same thing there that I was suggesting here for Tommy's land: long-term lease agreement, in exchange for payments, including profit sharing of crops. That money was not in the bank here; it was in Great Falls. LOTS of money. Money we hadn't ever touched. Anders and I looked at each other with wide-eyed expressions on our faces. "Boys, this is.....um, well, kind of `the tip of the iceberg'. Not going into anything else today, but nothing you're seeing here is to leave this table. Am I understood on that?" "Yes, Ma'am!", we both responded at the same time. We all laughed and Mom shook her head, standing to get coffee. "Who's drinking?" Both Anders and I wanted some, so while Mom got the coffee, I got the mugs and Anders reached behind him to open the door of the fridge, pulling out our own Guernsey's magical elixir. The house phone rang, and Anders was once again the closest in proximity, so he answered. "Anders Wojtowicz. Yeah. Yeah, I'm back at the farm. Nah, I don't think I'll go back to the classroom. Cows are actually smarter than college freshmen. Yeah, she's here; you want to talk with her? Oh? Yeah, we'll be here. Sure, come on over. You want to cut some time out of your commute, just go through the East gate, then stay driving West, and you'll come to the house. Of course. Um, just one thing.....is this going to be confrontational? Because we're not trying to get into your business or cause any issues here. Okay. Good. You can expect the same from us. Okay. Fifteen minutes, I'd say. Coffee's on. Bye." Anders hung up the phone and looked at Mom and me. "Well, seems like we have some people who want options. That was Jon Sanger. He and Kelly and Tom want to come a-callin', so to speak. I think we can guess what's on their minds." Mom smiled just a little. "Anders, Jeff; this is something that comes to many farmers at some point. I know I don't have to remind you to be gracious and kind hosts to people who are looking at very possibly losing their land. The better and louder part of the conversation will be the part that is silent. Listen twice before speaking once. But welcome our friends and neighbors, and if nothing else, we all get coffee. Too bad I don't have anything to go with it." Anders reached for his own phone. "Hey, Eva. Hi. Yeah, fine. Um, Eva; do you have anything pastry-like there? Yeah? Can I buy three cherry and three cream cheese? Yeah. Great! I'll be right there. Thanks, Eva. I will. Seven minutes or less! Great; I'll run in and get them and park some green stuff next to your till. Thanks!" "Eva has some filled croissants almost ready to come out of the oven. I'm gonna go grab them. Heck, they'll still be warm when the Sangers are here." Anders stood to go, but his phone rang. Eva. Eva? "PLEASE don't tell me you already sold out! I mean, that'd be great and all, but damn! Those sounded delicious! Oh, wow; are you sure? Seems awfully out of your way, Eva. Well, okay.....oh, wait a minute! I'm on to you! You're delivering pastries so you can see delivered puppies, aren't you? Heh.....thought so. Okay. Heck, yeah; please! See you!" Anders ended the call and looked at us, all red in the face. Oh, that farmboy has caught The Bug again.....and he was soooo busted, too. Good for him! "Eva is bringing the croissants herself. She wants your opinion and approval, Mom. She'll be here before the Sangers roll up, so really, this is perfect. And she wants some cuddle time with Lola Cola and the pups. I think that's what this is really about....." Now Mom and I looked at each other. I laughed and shook my head. "You really think that's 'what this is really about', Big Brother? You're kidding, right?" "Why? What do you.....oh." "Yeah, `oh', you big knuckle-dragger. Sheesh. Mom, please tell me he was adopted." We all laughed at my still-red brother, and Mom stood to put the computer back in its home. This was going to be an interesting morning; one which I can't recall ever experiencing before. Maybe I had, and just didn't know what I was seeing. But if today was the first, then we'd have friends left and right converging on our kitchen table to discuss keeping heads above metaphoric rising sea levels. "Mom, how do you want to do this? I don't know if this is something Tom and I should be part of, at least not initially." "I agree. Not that I don't want you to be here for it, but if Jon and Kelly are really that upset as you say---and I'm not doubting you---then it'd be better initially if you boys went off to see something else. Anders, honestly, I think the same goes for you. Let the Sangers get some stuff off their chests with the least number of people watching them be embarrassed. If Eva wants to see puppies-----probably not the real reason she's coming here, you know-----then show her puppies. Sound good to you two?" Anders and I both smiled and nodded. Her reasoning was sound: don't draw attention Humility. Mom knew what she was doing. To this day, I don't know if Dad or Mom was the better businessperson; I maintain they were equal partners in a farming operation---no, two operations---that saw success and stability, due to both their efforts and wisdom. I enjoyed just a sup or two of the coffee, now that I knew there'd be some Eva-Yums on the way. Mom excused herself and went to her room. She emerged a few minutes later in some better Levis and a sunny blouse and her hair tied back. She put on a watch, as well. I mention that last part because Mom mostly relies on her phone for time and everything else. I knew she wore a watch, though, to discreetly keep track of time in a way that is far less obvious than picking up a phone to look at it. I'm sure she didn't want to give the Sangers any impression she was occupied with anything but their visit to our farm. Only a few minutes later, Eva drove down the long drive from the gravel county road and parked by Anders' SUV. She waved, walking from the barn to the house, a big smile on her face and her trademark long, black hair braided down her back. She carried a box in her hand, actually a flat made for aluminum cans. I was already drooling at what tasty morsel might be in there, and was it possible to sneak away with one of both flavors without anyone noticing. Like everyone else on a farm in our county, she just walked in and greeting everyone with her own lyrical voice. We welcomed her as she placed the box on the table. A towel covered the filled croissants. I know we all wanted one, but three of us knew those were to make three others feel comfortable, as much as possible. How hard it is to be seventeen, and have zero restraint in the presence of sugary calories. My other weakness was 105 miles away, but would be back here soon. Damn, if he were here right now, I'd probably pass out from dehydration, drooling over Eva's treats and Marc's.....well, Marc. Just Marc. We made pastry pleasantries, and just as Anders suggested they go check on Lola Cola and her pups, I heard Jon Sanger's older Explorer come from behind the house. They did take the back way in, which was kinda cool, really. Sure, the county road was there, but that didn't mean it was better than driving through a hundred or so acres of pastureland. Anders and Eva stuck around long enough to say hi to the Sangers, and then they took off for PuppyLand. I shook Jon Sanger's hand and said `hi' to Mrs Sanger, and then I dragged Tom by the arm with the express purpose of him, too, seeing the pups. "Eva made some Pop Tarts for grown-ups; get one before we head out, Tom." He smiled and looked at the box, and then washed his hands in the kitchen sink before reaching for a cherry-filled croissant. Good choice. I took a cream cheese unit. We would trade half-way through and get the best of both worlds. Mom smiled at me as Tom and I walked out the kitchen door to the barnyard. The Sangers were in the best hands possible, if only so someone else would listen for just a moment. Sometimes.....just venting a little prevents a catastrophe. Ask anyone who has lived near a volcano. Tom looked at me out of the side of his eyes. "Jeff, I did what you said. Mom got so mad at me, she was in tears. Then I was. Felt like I had betrayed them. Dad was actually fairly calm, though. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't angry, either. I think I took away from him some of his power, but there was no way to find any other options without someone being on the losing end for a moment or two. I'm sorry if I caused you and your folks any problems, too." I put my arm around his shoulder and side-hugged my best guy friend. "No worries, Tomasino. No issues at our end, I promise. Listen, I suggested a plan to Mom and Anders, and they didn't say `no' to it. I think Mom will consider it. Bottom line: keeping ADM from being your only option here, Bud. That's all." "I don't know how they're anything BUT the only option. The bank isn't going to do anything helpful, according to Dad." "Banks are their own business. Dad made me realize that. It's not an easy lesson to learn, because they want it to seem like they're the farmers' friend and some such bullshit. They're just as much about profit and loss as our folks are. How many acres do you have?" "950. I asked Dad. Felt ashamed for not knowing, but he let it slide." "And it's bordered between the county road, the Tuss operation, and our farm?" "Yeah....." "Hmmm. Okay, that's what I thought. Anyway, they're in there now, talking about their stuff. Check out these puppies, Tom. Two days old." I led Tom toward the barn, and our conversation turned to school. "You headed to Missoula next month?" "Well, I hope not. I mean, I hope I can go to school right here. `Distance learning', as the cool kids call it. There are degrees I can get, even in business management and marketing and administration and who knows what all, online. Only have to actually go to campus to take some of the tests." "Really? Damn, that sounds good, actually." "With Anders back here, he and I can take care of this place together, of course with Mom, too. If I go off to school, we'd have to hire someone. No one else is gonna care about this place like we do, and I'd be sittin' in class over there, worried about over here, and I'd get sucky grades, probably never get laid, and just be miserable. Heck, I can get sucky grades here and probably never get laid; why drive 300 miles for the same privilege?" "I don't know about you gettin' laid, but as for grades; you'd have to try really hard to get anything below an A." "Yeah, well, okay. Maybe. But I still don't want to die in a life-long `dry spell'." "Please, Bitch; I know people who would drown in YOUR `dry spells'. You're gonna have to work harder than that to get me to cry the blues for you." We laughed and traded our half-eaten Eva-Yums. Damn. Both were so good! When we got to the barn, both Anders and Eva were holding puppies. Lola Cola barked and thumped her tail on the floor of the barn when she saw us. I leaned over the straw bale barrier and loved up on her as much as I could. She really liked some attention on her ears, so that's what she got from me. I reached for one of her puppies and asked her if that was okay. She just panted and wagged her tail. For all I know, she thought I was telling her I was going to go squeeze fresh eggs out of a chicken for her lunch. I doubted if she'd discourage me from doing that at my earliest convenience. I lifted up my favorite little guy, who always seemed to be closest to his Mama Dog's head. It would be weeks until his eyes opened, but I still gave him all sorts of kisses and scents so he'd recognize me as he developed post-natally. Tom was smiling, looking like the same love-struck fool we all have been because of these puppies. I handed the little guy to Tom, who instinctively held the pup close to his body to keep him warm and feeling secure. "Ain't nothin' better than `Puppy Smell'." "Agreed. That little guy is my favorite, though I have no real reason why. Don't tell the others, Tom." "These were sired by the same breed, Anders?" "That they were, Tom. Swiss Bernese. Lola Cola is actually a little on the smaller size for her breed. The males will probably outweigh the females by 20 pounds, and be a hand taller. `Handing' is mostly for horses, but when you have a dog who isn't much smaller than a horse, the same logic applies. Bernese are actually work dogs, bred over 300 years or so in Switzerland. They pull carts and things over there, up in the mountains, helping dairy farmers and cheesemakers. Over here, they are waited on hand and foot by silly humans who act like puppies are Kryptonite." "HA! Yeah, well, I can see why. And twelve? From one bitch! Damn." "Yeah. That's a large litter for her first. I think we're going to go with spaying next, though. Got enough to do without being a dog breeder, too. Eva, you know Tom Sanger and his family?" "I do! Tom, you're graduated now, too. What's next?" I almost regretted Eva asking him that. The Sangers were, one and all, asking themselves that very question----and wondering what few options might exist for them. Heck, Tom had more options than his parents; but he probably didn't like being reminded of it. "I got a scholarship to MSU from FFA; Future Farmers Of America. Just covers my first year for tuition and books." Anders turned to him. "What's your end goal, Tom?" "Ag undergrad at MSU, then Vet School at either Colorado or Washington State. Then move back here and open a practice. Just large animal, and preferably equine. Whatever pays the bills. Sally says I'm making a good move on this. I hope so. It's what I really want to be doing." That was a revelation to me! "Wait.....what?! You're going for DVM, too??" "Yeah. You kinda inspired me, and a few years ago, I was annoying Sally every time I saw her, asking a thousand questions. Kinda figured you and I could run a practice together." I was feeling light-headed. Nothing Tom said bothered me in the slightest; if anything, I was just happy to hear he was still at least thinking of college. I needed some alone time with him to review everything Marc and Anders were telling me. Heck, if Tom has a scholarship to MSU for Ag School already, he might be able to do distance learning, as well. I still wanted to look into the Ag and Food Science thing that both Marc and Anders has told me about. This was a larger conversation than could be had at the moment, but one we needed to have. I had an idea of how we might tie a few subjects together, and under the lights, sounds and smells of the fairground carnival. Anders and Eva moved to the other end of the barn to look at the tack room Dad had built. "Tom, Anders and Eva have an idea I like, and it kind of works with what you and I had talked about, too; of going to the rodeo." "Oh----yeah. Um, about that.....because of stuff at home, I can't really go to the rodeo now. Most I can get away with is wandering around Saturday night for awhile. Maybe see the Night Show, though I don't know who's performing." "Oh, It's ABBA, and AC/DC is opening for them." "Seriously?! No....you're fuckin' with your boy, aincha?" "Every chance you give me! Seriously, though. Anders and Eva, and you, and you should ask Kristi." "Already did; we were planning on going around 7PM. So, two couples and you're the fifth wheel? Doesn't sound much fun for you, Bud." "Um.....yeah, well, I wouldn't be a fifth wheel. There'd be six of us, Tommy." "Ohhh! Your juvie probation officer? Or are you telling me you finally met someone?" "Yeah, my juvie probation officer, Fool. Seriously, though: that's what I'm telling you.....met someone." "Well, why'd you keep that in the closet? You know I'd be happy about it for you, ya greedy fucker!" "Wasn't that. It's just been a crazy week. I met Marc---that's the guy's name---on Sunday morning. Then Dad died, just after that. From then on, I've been on a kind of autopilot routine, and haven't really had time to figure out what to tell you, or how. Definitely not trying to keep anything from you, Tommy." "Nah, I wouldn't think so. You're not that kind of guy. Okay, so: three couples, and if I'm not wrong, three new couples; Anders and Eva, kinda back together, kinda? Kristi and Me, and you and this Marc fella. Heck, I think this is exactly what a county fair is good for; folks meeting and getting to know one another. Then eat all the wrong food, go on rides, unswallow all that wrong food; rest and do it all over again. Heck, yeah! I'm in!" We laughed, and Tommy relinquished Little Guy back to me so I could return him to his mom. Lola Cola barked her approval of Tom and wagged her tail, and then licked his hand. Yeah, he was `in'. Tom and I left Anders and Eva in the barn, and walked out toward the frog pond. "Tom, on Monday, I'm gonna be talking with the admissions office at MSU to see if I can get in classes there. If I can, I think I'll declare the major offered in Ag and Food Sciences, and do the distance-learning thing right in the house. If you arrange the same thing for your undergrad major, we could distance-learn together during part of the day, and farm the rest of the time." "You're more optimistic than I am about the farming, Jeffrey.....If ADM buys us out, it'll be worth maybe 60% of the land's value. They'll base their offer on revenue from the past three years. Well, revenue has sucked for three years, but that doesn't mean the land is worth less money. We'd still have to pay off our equipment debt and pay the taxes for the quarter, so we'd slump away with maybe $10,000.00 in our pockets, and three people who've only ever been farmers suddenly needing jobs. Mom and Dad will probably have to move away and work for some big operation-----ironically, ADM or Conagra. Hourly workers without a name, just a number. And what would I do? Sure, I could go to college for a year, but I can't afford school these days without a job; I know as sure as I'm standing here that I'd end up trying to hire on at a farm or ranch, and bam, there's my future. Hired hand with a broken body by the age of 35." My heart was breaking for Tom and his family. I loved Tom like a brother. We'd always looked out for each other. Before our mood descended into the maudlin, we aimed back at the house. I saw through the window that Jon and Kelly Sanger were standing up from the table and smiling at Mom. Kelly gave Mom a big, ol' farm girl hug, which you know by now are fierce. Poor Mom! Or.....poor Kelly! All three walked outside, still smiling. Kelly held her arms out for Tom, who walked into them. Looked like she was no longer angry at him. He told her about the puppies, and Kelly is like Mom: `Animals?! WHERE!??' So the three of them headed to the barn where Anders and Eva remained. I could hear Kelly squeal, which made Mom and me laugh. Mom turned to me and put an arm around my shoulder. "Jeff, we'll talk more when Anders can be with us, but ADM is basically shitting on Team Sanger. They're coming in low, offering less than half what the land and house are worth. Jon and Kelly will balk at it, so they'll increase their offer some pitiful amount like 3%, along with the impression they're being magnanimous. All it will do is pay off a percentage of what they owe, leaving them still in debt, and zero assets. They'll get nothing out of this." "Are they, in `Fergus County Business Parlance' everyone understands, `fucked'?" "I don't think so. Not on our watch. Let's wait for Anders, okay?" I nodded. I realize some people might think I was a precocious kid. Heh.....joke's on you guys; I'm a precocious adult now. I always knew when I didn't know, and had no problem being corrected. I was just never shy about speaking up, and when I was right, chances were also very good I could be annoying. Always made me smile (and still does) that adults have no problem telling a kid he's wrong about something, but if he's right about anything? Time to change the subject quickly. Not all adults. My mom's parents, though.....they were masters of that craft. It was a sad reality: not every senior person can be Mr or Mrs Taylor, who would be model grandparents for every kid ever born. As well, not every kid ever born has to be seen and not heard. Some unparalleled wisdom came from the mouth of my own brother Anders when he was still in single digits. Dad and Mom never denied him his opportunity to speak and ask questions. I was afforded the same regard and respect. The whole reason the Sangers were even at our place that morning was because I spoke up and was heard. It's all anyone wants: to be seen, to be heard, to made welcome and valued by a community of two or seven billion. It's why, even if you have no spare change for them, at least wave, smile and say `hello!' to a homeless person. I've said before: it costs us nothing to be kind, considerate and compassionate. But if you have spare change.....well, we've always said we'd like to lose some weight.....right? Team Sanger walked back out of the barn, smiling and waving. Eva and Anders followed, waving back. Back at the house, Eva picked up her purse and sunglasses, happy to see the croissants were all gone. "Okay, now everyone tell me what you really thought: a `go' or a `no'?" Mom being a baker herself, and having been asked for her opinion, gave it. "Eva, you got the puff pastry just right, and I could tell you rolled it and folded it yourself. My favorite aspect: you used unsalted butter, didn't you? Yeah, I thought so. I could taste the flavor of the wheat. Commercially-made pastries are so salty, but yours are incredible. I'm guessing, though, that you used off-the-shelf fillings." "Oh.....obvious? Yeah, I did....." "Eva, the best part was just the croissant. Canned fillings are hit and miss, and most times, are just too sweet. For you to make these of the same quality as everything else you've made, you'd spend hours on the croissants alone, then make the fillings, and have to charge $10 for each of them to be profitable. In Seattle or Denver? You'd have people standing in line to buy these at even more. In my opinion, if you're going to sell these, at least consider buying prepared puff pastry to cut down on your production time, and buy a better grade of filling. Whatever you did for your pie earned you a purple ribbon-----which, by the way, I've NEVER won, despite years of trying! You are a natural business owner, Eva. You're baking your love right into your wares. Just balance it with love for yourself and your own time. Your muffins are forces to be reckoned with, Eva. And the pies? My gosh! You really are very good at this, Love." Eva had tears in her eyes, and she reached over to hug Mom. "THANK YOU! Those croissants were so much work! Chilling and rolling and chilling and rolling the dough every thirty minutes was making me sorry I'd ever started! By the time I had the pastry dough ready, I had no time to make a filling from the ground up! WHEW! Okay, then! Onward to other experiments! God, I'm so relieved!" We all laughed, and Eva moved toward the door. "I have to get back; Kim wants to talk about her job offer, and I have to clean up the kitchen more." I tilted my head and looked at Eva. "Job offer? Back in Helena?" "Oh, no! Sorry! No, I made her an offer to handle the barista work so I can concentrate on the bakery. We're actually doing well; I'll have the shack itself paid off in January, including the kitchen and bathroom upgrades. Next stop is hiring three more people so we stay open 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Right now, open only 16 hours a day, and eight hours on Saturday and Sunday. I can't remember working a day less than 12 hours, and usually it's 14 to 16 hours. I don't want Kim having to do that, too." Anders smiled. Looked to me like he was hearing this for the first time, and I could see the wheels turning in his addled brain. "Oh, wow; so Saturday evening at the fair is going to be a real `night out' for you. Nice! We could go out someplace nice before the fair, if you'd like." "Oh, heck, no! I want to eat all the fair food for as long as I can Saturday, so I can spend the next 364 days making up for it and preparing for the next fair's 'Night Of Bad Decisions'!" We laughed and Anders walked her to the door. Mom and I watched through the door's window as they walked to her car. They were so close to each other, but not as close as when Anders pulled Eva into a hug before she got in and drove way. That was no `Gee, nice to see you, and thanks for the blah pastries'; that was a `Gee, it's nice to see you.....and smell your hair.....and hold you.....and think about you until the next time we're together.....and can you really get back all right? Do you want me to carry you? Because I will, you know.....' Sheesh. And they say teenagers are silly in love. WE ply lost exercising tourists with bottled water and years-old Twinkies, and get the word `boyfriend' bandied about within only five days. Now, really: WHO could ever call US `silly' when we can accomplish all that while barely breaking a sweat? It was now 10:00 AM. Still time before Jorge and Team arrived. Anders and I would get the sandwiches finished and sodas ready on ice as soon as the big, red machines were visible on the horizon. Until then.....it was time to sit and listen to Mom. We all sat and had some more coffee Mom had made fresh with the Sangers' departure. "Okay. So, here's what's up with our neighbors and friends, the Sangers. Use your own good sense with this information, and repeat none of it-----even to the Sangers. They are in trouble with the bank, and yes, somehow Archer Daniels Midland found out about it. They sent a representative up from Billings yesterday who had a complete offer written up. They want to buy the Sangers out for fifty cents on the dollar, but then the Sangers have to use that money to pay off their creditors. ADM gets the land and buildings, all implements, livestock and outstanding accounts receivable, and zero debt. This is what they're in business to do: fiduciary responsibility to the shareholders; first, foremost and only. However unethical it is to pay the lowest amount possible and drive farmers off their land, it's legal. And that, Boys, is the difference between the Letter of the Law and the Spirit of the Law." Anders had on his Analytical Face, which I sometimes told him was just his `Anal Face', and that he should be proud of it, because it was completely natural and unique to him only. Then he'd hit me, and we were off to the races. "Did they say anything about consulting with an attorney, maybe at the Farm Bureau, about Chapter Twelve bankruptcy? It's written specifically for ag producers." "Anders, they're already in C-12. Three years ago. Even if they were out of it, they can claim bankruptcy only once every ten years. No, they're out of options. Or they were....." Mom stood up and went back into the pantry office for her laptop. When she returned and sat down, she had it opened and back on the same files as before. Anders and I stood and moved behind her so we could see the screen. "My folks had a good operation up in Hingham. They left the land intact to your aunt and me, and the same tenant farmer family have been on it since 1968. Now you can see why we have done nothing to stand in the way of the Asbjornsons' success." Mom opened another file, a ledger, showing the quarterly payments to the LLC that owns the land. Holy Fuck A Duck. I'm not gonna go into detail, but I'll tell ya this much: we would never be in the same situation as the Sangers. Now that's not to say anything about us being better farmers or anything else; it's just a different set of circumstances, and having an entirely different homestead for Ages. And that was just the land; Mom and Aunt Pat are also minority shareholders of the bank that their family merged with decades ago. So: two sources of money for that LLC. "The bankers here do not know about the land and money in Hill County. The same is true in reverse, and we want it to stay that way. We're doing everything legal and, I'm proud to say, ethical with the land, the bank, and the tenants. Your dad and I just stayed out of it all. Pat manages everything, and because of that, has a 51% share to our 49%. You have no cousins. I want you to put your Thinking Caps on for a moment and think of the long-term ramifications of what I just told you. Okay, are you getting the picture?" Anders and I nodded. Holy Fuck A Duck. This was additional resources, but exponentially additional responsibilities. All of a sudden, I wasn't sure a B.A. in Business Management would be enough; might need more letters of the alphabet in there, too. What really amazed me, though: neither my brother nor I knew about any of this. It's as if the other farm didn't even exist until today. What I wasn't sure about, though: why Mom was showing us this now? What is the importance of that property at the moment, when I'm proposing we sell to Peter to pay Paul? As always: Mom will let anyone know when she's done speaking. Anders, as is his custom, listened intently. "Mom, I suspect Jeff would agree with me, but this is the first time I'd heard about your family's property still being.....well, in the family. I'm curious, though, why you mention it now." "Because the Asbjornsons are ready to retire, and none of their three kids want to leave their careers in Spokane and Minneapolis to come back and farm the land." "So.....sorry I'm so dense here....." I rolled my eyes with extra dramatic flair. "We saw the hug, Anders; did Eva squeeze all the oxygen from your brain? Mom is, I believe, going to make a firm offer to the Sangers not only to buy them out, but to lease-farm this mystery land in Hill County to them. How'm I doin', Ma?" "Yeah, must've been the hug, Jeff.....but isn't it nice that Anders got a hug from Eva? I mean, did you SEE the look on his face? If he's gonna go from oxygen deprivation, what a way to go. First, puppies; now.....ummmm.....'girlfriend', Anders?" Mom and I laughed and Anders turned the same shade of red I did when I got busted getting hard while looking at Marc for the first time. Anders laughed, too. We were a family that took each other seriously and literally, but also with a grain of salt on the right occasions. This was one of those. Still, he came up for air and had more about the subject at hand. "Okay, enough, you two! Let a man have a discreet moment or two, whydoncha?! ANYWAY----so dividing this offer into two parts, and the first one being the Sangers' current operation: When is their bank loan due, are you thinking of just buying it outright without selling our un-utilized 500 acres to the King Colony, and was anything committed to ADM?" I was laughing at Anders, but not derisively. "Um, indulge me for a sec, but `Discreet moment'? Oh, HECK, no! You two were in a BARNYARD! What happens in a barnyard between two consenting mammals does NOT stay in the barnyard! But on that issue, and speaking only for myself, I will be disappointed if there aren't more of your `discreet moments' like this one, IN THE BARNYARD!" Mom was giggling and nodding her head, and Anders joined us both, this time all of us red just from enjoying a family moment of laughter. "You boys.....oh, my gosh! Anders, in the order you asked: Their bank loan is due 30 September. This is their only creditor, other than open lines of $500 or less for feed and fuel. At present, all revolving credit is paid off, and no credit cards or charge accounts. Oh, except for Sally. They owe her $1,200.00, but it's off the books since the bankruptcy. She's a good business owner, too. Next: I want to hear you boys' opinions on keeping or selling the 500 acres to the Hutterites. I know my opinion, but what are your thoughts? Finally, Number Three: Unfortunately, Jon committed to the ADM rep to give them first right of refusal to buy the Sanger farm while they are in bankruptcy. Again: your thoughts?" I looked at Anders while he looked at me. I nodded at him. Yeah, I'm the poster child for Precocious Teenagers, but in this case, I was out of my league----on the third issue. On the second one, though, I had my opinion. Still, I waited for my big brother to go first. "Okay, well, since you asked; the end of September is the end of the third quarter. Good. That gives us or anyone else about eight or nine weeks to see if we can help Team Sanger. And for the record, I hope we or someone other than ADM can. Issue Two: Selling or retaining the 500 acres bordering the King Colony property. We're paying taxes on land we're not profiting from. Maybe there's some benefit from reduced revenue, but it's not that much, I think. If they want the acreage, it'll be a cash sale, knowing them. That means no closing date or other interference, although they'll want a title search and a survey. That can be done in five days. Sell it. $10,000.00 per acre, and an easement agreement so we can still access the county road through the property to access ours. Any fence installation at our expense, which for two miles would not be much. Finally, Number Three.....If that sale can happen before 31 August, we have $5,000,000.00 in liquid assets. We lend the money from this farm to the Sanger farm for the remaining amount owed through bankruptcy, and they're no longer covered by Chapter 12. Thus, they're no longer in bankruptcy, and ADM can't enforce---or whine about with a lawsuit-----about not getting the sale of the Sanger property. Jon and Kelly sign the deed over to us as repayment of the loan. They move to Hingham, take over the operation there of 2,000 acres, make quarterly payments to that LLC, we have their property here for what purpose I don't quite know yet, and everything goes back to normal." I looked at Anders. My gosh. OF COURSE. It all made sense to me, because he explains clearly and precisely. He always has. The only reason I got good at math at a young age was because Anders explained the reason and logic of numbers, and the laws that govern them. Everything he just said was perfectly clear to me. I looked at Mom; she was smiling. I was silently talking to Dad, because while I couldn't exactly ask him questions, I could let him know, just between us, that I did pay attention during the time we had together: Dad, if you were here with us at this table, right now, you'd already have the Rye poured into four glasses, toasting Mom and Team Brothers. Because I've learned many things from you, from opening a conversation to discussion during and finally closing, I'll get four glasses and the Rye, myself. And that's what I did. I set the glasses down, one in front of each of us, and poured three small shots for Mom, Anders and myself. "I agree with both of you. It's all a logical move. I'm sure an attorney needs to be involved for some or even all of this, and that's fine with me; it's an area of business I know really nothing about, and am eager to learn. Mom, did you mention to the Sangers about the Hill County property?" "No. And you're wise to ask that. There's no good reason to discuss assets with people we are not in business with----yet. I didn't say anything, either, about the King Colony prospect, nor anything about 500 acres. I kept it just to their current predicament. All I told them was, the three of us would discuss the matter and if we could do anything helpful, we would. I may or may not have suggested that your dad and I had wanted to offer on that property when the Tuss family were selling, but decided against it at the time. That land will be beneficial for this operation, and we come out with almost 500 more acres when the dust settles and all of this is over." The biggest benefit to them: wiping their slate clean. And out of bankruptcy without foreclosure, their credit will never be better. IF we are in agreement on selling and buying, we need to start immediately. So, what's it going to be, Farmers?" I raised my glass. "I'm in." Anders raised his. "Me, too." Mom raised hers. "Me, three." We drank our quarter-ounce shots. "And that is the LAST time we drink 100 Proof at 11:00 AM! But Jeff, that was the right thing to do, and you honored your dad. Thank you for that. Now: orange juice all around for a chaser? We need the taste and smell of this out of our mouths before Jorge and Team show up!" I wonder, really, if we ever got much accomplished beyond just laughing all the time. Even in the process of making a business decision that benefitted three entities, making fun of my brother's truly juvenile puppy crush on someone other than twelve puppies, and learning that (for the last time, I promise), WELL FUCK A DUCK, we ain't hurtin' financially, and probably never will be. With two hours until we could expect Miguel, Jorge, Ignacio and the Team, I stood to stretch. All that coffee.....oh, my god. I excused myself and headed for the barn. Not only did I want to ride Bolt today, I needed to milk the cow. She was comfortable hanging out with the Black Angus, and they were always just doing their own thing. I went upstairs to change into some work clothes. I'd left my phone on the charger there, which is rare for me; normally it goes right in my pocket the moment my Levis are on. Text messages and a voicemail from Marc. They'd arrived in Great Falls right on time, despite the delay in swapping vehicles. There was some issue with the airplane that had sat from the night before, so Horizon Airlines was sending a replacement from Seattle. That would mean a delay, but the problem had been discovered very early, and now the plane was only 45 minutes away. The Taylors were still the one hour ahead of departure, so all was well. He was fueling the truck at the west edge of town. He wondered why there was a casino on every other street corner on 10th Avenue South, the `main drag' through town. Heh.....I had once wondered the same thing. Mom said, `gambling is the players paying more taxes because they can't do math'. THEN it all made sense. The voicemail, featuring that deep, resonant, seductive voice, was from the road as he passed Stanford. He was 60 miles away. They had seen deer alongside the road while going to the airport, but since the Sun was back in the sky, the deer were in fields and at streams getting their own breakfasts. Thus far, smooth sailing. Marc commented on the strong crosswinds at Moccasin and Hobson, two small (REALLY small) towns along Highway 200. Another reason I was glad he'd taken Dad's truck instead of the light and little Mustang. Although.....someday I hoped he and I could go for a drive in that studly car. Since I'd connected his phone with the truck's radio, I called Marc. He answered on the first ring. "Hey, Boyfriend." "Hey, Boyfriend. How's the trip?" "Without issue! Dang, this truck is a beast! Driving to Great Falls this morning and driving back now, we had winds that seemed really strong. Although the side of this schooner is a giant moving sail and caught the wind, it held its course just fine. Very comfortable, too. Thank you for offering us the use of it." "You Taylors and your nautical references!" "Aye, Matey! How about some matin' when I get back?" "You're not coming back until Sunday?" "What.....no! I'll be there in I guess an hour or so." "Yeah, but you've limited some Boyfriend Mating Time, known locally as `The BMT', to Sundays only." "Did I say that?" "Only because I couldn't keep your mouth full and busy, probably." "Ah, so it's your fault. `Coulda-Shoulda-Woulda', Boyfriend!" "Hmmm.....okay, you know what? Sunday it is. I have things to do to keep me interested and occupied. I can wash my hair, wash my horse's hair, take the ATV out and check on the pregnant cows; no end of the possibilities, when you think about it." "Yeah, well, you need to think about THIS....." "Are you pointing at your dick?" "How'd you know?" "You Harvard guys are so preDICKtable. Now if you were from Yale....." "YALE! Suggesting I'm from Princeton would've hurt less." "Speaking of top-drawer schools.....your interview with Mr Boldonovic today....." "Oh! Is that today?" "Incorrigible! Do you have plans for after that? And if not, would you like to make some?" "I don't know when the meeting will conclude, but I can't imagine it running more than an hour or so. He already knows a fair amount about me, I'm sure; he's done his due diligence online, at the very least. What're you thinking?" "Just being together. No agenda." "Jeff, this will possibly sound rude, but I really need an evening to myself. Since I've been here, each waking minute has been filled with my family, doing research, seeing you----which I've loved, just to be clear---and maybe eating. I haven't been for a run since Sunday, and I'm missing that. Also.....I want an evening just to begin settling into the house. I am really sorry if I'm being hurtful, Jeff. It's not at all my intention." "You're not at all, Marc! My gosh, don't ever worry about that. I totally understand `alone time', and yeah, you've been going non-stop since you got here. Figuratively `non-stop', since I don't know where you'd be right now if we hadn't met Sunday morning! Nah, I get it; I think I'd want the same thing. I feel dumb for not thinking about that myself before I asked." "Jeff, I like you. You know that. And little moments like this come along when I get to know you better, and I like you even better as a result. I think there are some things we should discuss, and an open evening for that would be perfect. And soon. Please." "Of course. I am not walking away from this conversation with a broken heart; I'm still getting my Rice-A-Roni." "Your `Rice-A-Roni'?" "Yeah, you know; those game shows in the 60s had a consolation prize for anyone who didn't get whatever the big prize was. I saw the re-runs on some town channel one weekend. They got `Rice-A-Roni', and mine is, I get to see you today anyway when you come to swap buggies." "You're too clever and adorable for words." "Ahhh.....then you won't need your mouth for speaking. I can think of a diversion or two for it." "Can you now.....hmmm....." "Sunday." "Sunday." "Actually, Marc.....I forgot to discuss this with you yesterday, but it has been strongly encouraged that you and I should join Anders and Eva and Tommy and Kristi for Saturday evening at the fair. Carnival stuff, seeing people, maybe the night show, which is usually some B-List musician touring around. Both Anders and Eva want you to come. I do, too." "Geez, I don't know.....I should wash my hair.....and my horse's hair. You know, hair stuff. That's what I usually do on Saturday nights at the other University of Montana." "Then I think when you get here, I'll tie you to a stool and use the horses' mane clippers to buzz all your head hair off so you won't have to wash it Saturday." "No, don't do that! All my gang tattoos will be visible!" "`Justin Bieber Fan Club' members have gang tattoos on their heads?" "Insolent Jeff! That'll cost you a Sunday! `Justin Bieber', indeed. I can begin to smell the Axe Body Spray all the way from Canada." "So, no tattoos, head or otherwise?" "No. Just haven't found or conceived one I've liked enough to get, I guess. And you?" "I have `Welcome To Fergus County, And Have A Nice Visit!' tattooed on my foreskin. Of course, in cold weather, that reads, `Welcome To Fergus County'." "Do your parents know you talk that way to new residents of Lewistown?" "Nope. Dad's dead and Mom's deaf." "JEFFREY!" "What? Too soon.....?" "Well, isn't it??!" "Not if you knew Dad. He's laughing right now. And getting a mouthful of dirt while doing it." "I.....I just.....well, I just passed Moore, I guess. I can't think of a response to you." "Alllll the more reason to keep your mouth occupied so you don't have to respond to anything, doncha think? Oh, I should've asked you where you were; you could've turned at Moore. There's a shortcut to our place through there. Didn't even think of that." "That's because you have a one-track mind." "That's not true. I have an eight-track mind. Hold on while I insert and play `Emerson, Lake and Palmer's Brain Salad Surgery' album." "Please don't. My father played them non-stop, and my mother was addicted to The Carpenters. When they were fighting, they'd crank the stereos which were at opposite ends of the house with both of those." "Damn! I hope you snuck out!" "Didn't have to sneak; I just walked out the front door, apologized to the neighbors, the police, SEAL Team Three and Barbra Streisand." "Barbra Streisand?!" "She actually was a neighbor, when she'd come visit for a week every year. We lived on Whidbey Island. Lots of celebrities live there." "Is that where you met and fell in love with....." "Don't say it, or I will keep driving until I get to Wyoming." ".....Justin Bieber?" "WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!" "I couldn't really tell; I think I heard you singing `Love Yourself'. Sing it again, just so I can be sure....." "You know, that replacement plane this morning was a 737, which has twice the capacity of an Embraer-175. I could've just flown away with The Grandies....." "Sure; to live in a retirement village with old people playing Neil Sedaka-----on cassettes! He's THEIR Justin Bieber! You'd be singing `Neil's Greatest Hits' in no time! `I hear.....laughter in the rain, la-la-la'! Which would be ironic, because you'd be living in New Mexico, which hasn't had rain since Harry Truman was President." "You need a spanking." "Ooooh! `Daddy'!" "NEVER, EVER, EVER call me that!" "Why not? You call me `Jeffrey'!" "Then let's agree: No `Daddy', and no `Jeffrey'!" "What could possibly be the problem with calling you `Daddy', particularly when you're threatening me with a good, old-fashioned paddlin'?" "Because I'm not old enough!" "OH, yeah, y'are! I read it online: `You're never too old to be Chicken, and you're never too young to be Chicken Hawk'! Words of gay wisdom, right there." "You need to explore other websites. I'm turning now to your property as I wave to Eva. I will go to the fair ONLY because Eva will be there to keep you sociably acceptable." "You don't know Lewistown Society. Well, you kind of do; you've met Shanna and Lu. Really, all of us are like that. Must be in the water." "HOW MANY CHROMOSOMES DO YOU PEOPLE HAVE??! An extra ten?!" "I got yer `ten' right here, Professor.....come n' git `em." "It's not Sunday." "It will be, particularly if we stay long enough at the fair Saturday night." "You'll have an awful dry spell between now and Sunday at 12:00 Midnight." "I've been told----just recently, in fact---that I don't really have `normal people' dry spells." "Oh? Gonna `get busy' with those combine guys you talked about?" "I `get busy' only with my boyfriend, and he doesn't drive a combine. Although, he seems to be driving a vehicle almost as large, just fine. I can see him about to turn onto our property." "Well, aren't I just lucky!" "Yes, Marc. I think you are. And I know I am." I could see his smile through the windshield, and I'm fairly certain he could see mine. I was trying to out-shine the Sun with it, because yes, Marc; I know I'm lucky.