Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

not want to, but I did not turn the machines on until he signed the line.”

He handed me the logbook, and I saw my son’s signature next to the date of October fourth. The ink was dark and thick, written with the heavy pen he always kept in his breast pocket.

“Get the test run started,” I said, handing the logbook back. “I will be in continue reading …