Golden Honey Jars on a Sunny Counter in Sweetwater

the real tupelo tomorrow morning,” I said.

“The wind is coming from the north,” Evelyn said, looking at the trees outside. “The frost will be here by Saturday.”

David was already in the barn when I got back, the hose running into the metal wash tub.

The water from the well was ice cold, coming up from eighty feet down through the Georgia limestone. David continue reading …