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manages things is a mystery. If he’s not drinking, it seems, he’s reading. I came by Sunday and he was standing out in the yard, two sheets in the wind. He wheeled around cross-legged, watching me go by. Don’t think he knew what end of him was up. Still manages to get the work done, though, and his horses and stock are just strapping.”
    â€œWhen it comes to farming there’s none better,” The Boss said. “It’s a delight to watch him plow, drunk or sober. He ever mention fixing up the porch anyways decent yet?”
    â€œHammered a shelf or two to the wall. Studs are still bare, though.”
    â€œBeer crock behind the stove, I suppose?”
    â€œOh yeah, you can count on that. And his books, that’s what the shelves are for. Keeps his dishes in the oven.”
    â€œCome up with any new rhymes lately?”
    â€œProbably has, but wouldn’t let on. Get him at a tyme half lit and you never know what’s going to come out of him.”
    â€œBetter than what you’d hear on the radio, too.”
    â€œOh yeah, radio can’t hold a candle to Dan. And never cracks a smile. Makes it all the funnier.”
    â€œMust get down to see Dan; haven’t seen him much lately. He don’t make a lot of sense when he’s got a jag on, and he’s pretty much had one on since the fire.”
    â€œI suppose you heard about the big wedding coming off,” Nanny said.
    â€œYeah, Charlie is going to take the big leap. Agnes is taking up the collection and looking after the shower. We’ll tamarack her down. It’s coming off in June just after planting.”
    Nanny paused in her knitting and looked up. “What’s she like, John?”
    â€œJoanie Tripp? Seems like a nice young lady. Quiet. Her father got that store on Cobbler Road.”
    â€œMaybe she’ll be too quiet for Charlie,” Nanny said.
    â€œWell, there’s that. He’s a corker, that fellow, especially when it comes to hockey and step-dancing; make a dog laugh, too.”
    â€œHe was doing the barn work for us last winter when we were all down with the flu,” The Old Man said. “He stuck his head in the door on his way home, the lugs of his cap up like wings, and them sharp eyes of his. ‘Let me know if you decide to kill that red steer by the pig pen,’ he said. ‘He just about drove his foot through my rear end. I’d like to get first blow at him, help send him off.’”
    â€œShe might not be able to handle him, with his antics,” Nanny said.
    John Cobly chuckled. “You never know, though, about them women. They pretty well got a fellow figured out before they set their cap for him.”
    â€œAnd when they set their cap for a fellow, you might as well say he’s done for,” The Old Man said, eyeing Nanny.
    Nanny’s eyebrows shot up. Her needle clicks quickened. “I suppose men don’t set their caps for women,” Nanny said.
    â€œNot that I know of,” The Old Man said.
    â€œI guess maybe not. Pretty hard to set your cap and chase somebody at the same time.” John Cobly’s eyes gleamed, his face easing into a gleeful smirk.
    â€œMaybe if you hadn’t set your cap, you wouldn’t have been chased,” The Old Man said.
    â€œI didn’t have to set my cap to get chased.”
    â€œThat’s because you were chasing me.”
    â€œKeep talking like that, you old horse, and you’ll get no lunch.”
    â€œThe road of love is a rocky road,” John Cobly said giddily.
    â€œNow, you know you couldn’t get along without me,” The Old Man said.
    â€œCan’t get along without horses, either.” Nanny’s eyebrows had shot full height and the needles were clicking in high gear.
    â€œShe loves me, John, can’t you tell?”
    â€œHaven’t the shadow of a doubt.”
    â€œSpeaking of lunch,” The Old Man said.
    Nanny put down her