To You … With Love,


February 21, 2024

When David and I were young we lived on his father's rainbow trout farm. Located down on the edge of the Ozarks where the waters run clear and cold, we fed the fishes, cooked the fish food, picked the bad ova from the egg beds of those yet unborn and assisted travelers who came forth to fish.

One morning an elegant automobile pulled into the yard and out of it came a man, carefully put together, a woman in garments one only dreams about and a little girl child whose laughter seemed to sweeten the air around her. They decided to fish in the area that contained the largest fish.

When they came t...

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