Farm Chores With Grandpa Harry

Farm Chores With Grandpa Harry

Harry looked at the black and white wedding photo on his night stand as he sat up in bed. Taken more than 70 years earlier, it was the last thing he looked at each night and the first each morning. “Gladys,” he said, picking up the small frame. “I sure wish you were...

Grandpa Harry’s Unusual Trophy Collection

Grandpa Harry’s Unusual Trophy Collection

“Grandpa, why do you have that old saw hanging above your fireplace?” Ethan asked. “It’s kind of old and rusty.” “It’s a trophy,” Harry said.  “A trophy? For what? That doesn’t look like trophy I’ve ever seen.  It just looks like an old saw like you have out in the...

Grandpa Harry and the Driving Lesson

Grandpa Harry and the Driving Lesson

Reaching for a match in his pocket, the old man shuffled across the wooden floor of the cabin to the coal-oil lamp by his rocker. Once lit, he slipped the glass chimney back on and turned up the flame. Chauncey, the golden lab, stirred slowly in the corner. Sleep was...

Christmas With Grandpa Harry

Christmas With Grandpa Harry

Harry shoveled the snow away from the barn door and, once inside, made his way to the two pairs of wooden snowshoes hanging on a nail. The larger set was his; his wife, Gladys, wore the smaller ones when she was alive. He lifted the shoes off the wall and laid them on...

Grandpa Harry and Hunting Memories

Grandpa Harry and Hunting Memories

Harry adjusted his wire-rim glasses and smoothed the letter from Ethan, his ten-year-old grandson, out on his rustic kitchen table. The golden light of morning crept through the kitchen window as he read it again. “Chauncey, old boy, would you like me to read you the...

Grandpa Harry’s Purple Heart

Grandpa Harry’s Purple Heart

Ethan gently lifted the glass front to the old barrister bookcase and reached in for the little box containing the medal. He heard the tap-tap-tap of Grandpa Harry’s cane on the wooden floor as he ambled down the hallway.   “What is this, Grandpa?” Ethan asked.  ...

A Trip to the Mailbox: A Christmas Story

A Trip to the Mailbox: A Christmas Story

Harry balanced one hand on the cane while he slipped another log into the fireplace. Usually, he burned spruce or lodgepole pine that grew in abundance in the forest around his cabin, but he kept the Pinon pine for Christmas mornings. No other logs burning on a fire...

A Trip to the Mailbox: A Thanksgiving Story

A Trip to the Mailbox: A Thanksgiving Story

Harry swept the burnt umber oak leaves away from the door with his foot. The swirling wind of autumn piled them against the door as quickly as he moved them away. Shutting the door behind him, his cane tapped the wooden floor as he made his way across the room. He...

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