Standing there, I was peering out the wavy window in the front living room toward the roadway. Waiting for my wife to return with the rest of the children. Kinda of hard to see out of, these old, blurry windows. Timmy I had here with me. Being seven years old, I had kept him behind to help me with some of the chores. Always chores. No matter what time of day really. Upon waking. After breakfast. Arriving home from work. It didn’t matter. There were always chores to be done, especially on a Saturday like today. Milk the cows. Feed the horses. Check the batteries. With my son’s help, we had whipped through all these things and more a bit faster than I would have been able to handle by myself. So, there I stood looking out the window into the white, grainy day here in hot and humid July.