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I borrowed some prairie from my daughter and went to live on the land again. I bought some nails, a barrel of molasses, a tin of lard, and a long twine rope for my journey. while traveling across acres of sunken hops I met a man going the other way. "Where you off to, stranger?" I asked him. "Back to civilization" he replied, taking off his hat and wiping a rattlesnake from it." "Why's that?" I asked. "Too many dang writers comin' in and scribbling away all the good bottom land" he said, with half a sneer. "You a writer?" he asked me.
"No" I said honestly. "I'm a dreamer with a barrel of molasses." He shook my hand then. "You'll do well, pardner" he told me cheerfully. then he walked on back to civilization. the dope.
next I came across a family of cottonwoods taking a long drink from a small stream. they nodded at me in a neighborly fashion, letting their cottony seeds drift down on me. so I settled in to farm the land and sing the songs. when the drought came and killed off all the cottonwoods I still had my barrel of molasses.
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