One Nation, Under God
Cleaning out the house has been a chore.
It takes time to go through twenty years of accumulation of stuff, some of it worth saving, most of it not.
A lot of it came with us when we moved from Bozeman, including a box labeled rocks and another labeled iron. Opening them for the first time in decades I was disappointed to find they were just that — a box of relatively unremarkable rocks and old horseshoes.
What had I been thinking?
At least it was easy to dispose of them.
Another rock is more difficult to toss. A recent find, it’s a Native grindstone that I unearthed when burying my dog Jem nea...
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