About the Author: John H. Dromey was born in northeast Missouri. He enjoys reading—mysteries especially—and writing in a variety of genres. He’s had short fiction published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, Crimson Streets, Gumshoe Review, Mystery Weekly Magazine, Stupefying Stories Showcase, Woman’s World, and elsewhere.
Hello Cousin,
Thanks ever so much for the invitation, but I have no desire whatsoever to return to the hoarse and buggy days. Gasping at straws (hay fever) and scratching chigger bites is not my idea of a good time.
Best regards,
Molly
As she hit SEND, Molly Sullivan hoped the frankness of her Re: Why Don’t You Come Visit REPLY would not start a family feud. Her cousin’s e-mail had opened a floodgate of childhood memories and not all of them were good.
Molly’s two-week visit to her Uncle Raymond’s farm during her early youth was both an eye-opening and a nostril-clogging experience. She learned milk did not come from bottles and eggs did not come from cartons. Not initially, anyway. She also found out she was allergic to feathers and more-than-a-little intimidated by the stomping hooves and swishing tails of fly-pestered dairy cows.
Getting up with the chickens and doing chores was likewise a shock to her system. On a family farm in the good old days when agriculture was labor intensive, the kids did their fair share of the work. From day one, her bossy cousin Liz insisted on Molly helping out with feeding and watering the laying hens, gathering eggs, and hoeing the garden.
Hey! It's Molly, from "A Woman Who Sat On A House", in the March issue, investigating again! How fun!