Golden Honey Jars on a Sunny Counter in Sweetwater

than an inch in August, Arthur,” Evelyn said, her voice quiet but clear. “My garden hose was the only water my hydrangeas saw all month.”

Arthur turned to her, his jaw tightening. “With all due respect, Evelyn, a schoolteacher doesn’t manage our agricultural logs.”

“But I manage my husband’s medicine,” Evelyn said, looking him in the eye. “And this syrup continue reading …