I don’t know what prompted my mother to make this Farmer’s Arms sampler. It is true that her brother, my Uncle Wally, had a farm on the shores of Lake Champlain that our whole extended family considered Our Farm, and we kids/cousins were shipped up there for part of the summer. However, my father tried farming but quit suddenly one frigid winter day in 1948. Of all the 20 cousins, including my five farm cousins, I may be the one now leading the most rural life. We do have lawns and bowers, fruits and flowers and even raised pigs and chickens.. How do these things happen?
For more (almost) Wordlessness this Wednesday click here.