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The city slickers

Posted: March 14, 2017 12:27 p.m.

Bree, the eight-year-old daughter of my niece Nicole, was riding shotgun with me one day in Tink's pick-up truck. We were in foothills of the mountains headed to a Sunday afternoon baptizing in the Chattahoochee River.

I turned the truck onto a road that runs through a gorgeous, large farm. In the pasture on the right hand side were a couple hundred head of cattle (in the country, we don't use an ‘s' on head when talking about cows. And some of our folks still say things like, ‘he was 40-year-old when he died.' Such language is music ...

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