Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

leaving the grass slick and cold. My daughter-in-law Nicole walked along the edge of my flowerbeds, her boots sinking slightly into the damp earth as she held a blue plastic clipboard against her chest.

“The structure is completely dry-rotted, Clara,” Nicole said, pointing her pen toward the old cedar garden shed at the back of the property.

I snipped continue reading …