Do you ever dream of doing something big, but find yourself feeling too small to try? When I feel that way, as I often do, I like to think about Darleen. I wrote this story 20 years ago. If you recall it, your memory is better than mine. It goes like this:
Long after it was over, folks liked to speculate about what exactly possessed her to do it. Some said it was the mower. Others blamed the bull. But there was more to it than that.
While visiting family in the Carolinas one summer, I wrote columns at a friend’s house surrounded by cow pastures, where I’d be free of distraction.