"Would you like me to go fetch one of the wooden brooms or the plastic green garden stakes we keep downstairs in the basement? I think Dad would enjoy...a nice belly button thrusting with the point of the stake or the handle of a broom lodged nice and deep into his belly button pit." Mr. D grinned and said we should try both. I hurried downstairs and in less than thirty seconds I was back upstairs. I handed Mr. D the broom first.Mr. D smirked as he grabbed it. He walked over to Dad and smiled. Lobo came out of the brambles, tilted his head and looked back at Morales as if to say, “The day is getting on. You coming?”Morales picked up his pace.A little later, he stopped as they passed a section a couple of hundred yards square. As he watched the wind ripple the golden stalks in waves, he assumed it was a field of wheat – at least it looked like the pictures he had seen on TV. I saw this from a distance before, but up close, it’s daunting. One hell of a lot of work if I want to have. More

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