One Pharmacist’s View

I loved Goat Ridge Farm, the farm my dad’s parents operated in Leflore County, Oklahoma. My readers know that’s the farm my brother Gerald and I were often exiled to in the hot summers of the 1940s. My dad, in his fatherly logic thought he might be helping out his dad by sending us down there for a few weeks each summer. He said he wanted to help out his dad since all his sons grew up and (like my dad) fled the paradisical farm and its abundant farming chores. Like character building plowing, hoeing, gathering and milking six or eight cranky cows every day, slopping hogs, and so forth. Besides, dad said, the suffering and hardships would do us both good.