By Mary Ann Ellis
Years ago when we settled on this road, before it was Buck Head Road, before the pavement covered the washboard dirt surface, we didn’t worry too much about our animals being hit by passing vehicles. For the most part, those vehicles eased by our house at a reasonable rate of speed. Otherwise, the ruts in the road would surely shake them to pieces and sling various parts to lie in the ditches. Our grapevine grew close to the road and produced luscious fruit when August came round. If someone stopped for a handful, we didn’t care in the least. The grapevine itself provided a nice shade for a hot lawn mower—me, not the riding machine. In August, I’d have grapes to go with my rest.
[Full Story »]