Stories from the journey of fatherhood & brotherhood
There’s a split rail fence surrounding my backyard. It separates our small stamp of grass from the trees and bushes that someone planted to decorate the main street in our neighborhood. Several years ago, a flying popsicle cleared said fence and got hung up in the bramble of a burning bush hedge. These things happen.
It was an early summer weekend, with yard work on the to-do list. One of the top items was to give the lawn a once-over raking. Aeration plugs and a...