Good luck! This forty acres, according to Archie had been available since 1937, a span of twenty-one years.
Why had no one else bought it? A vexing question since the price was negligible. Of all the tax delinquent properties I had checked, this was the only one even remotely suitable.
Lucky?
And then a trip not so lucky. New Swede saw, new snow tires, sharpened axes, new snow on the ground. Chris and I to the woods,
and again quiet cuddled softly around us when I cut the engine at the far end of the road. Snow stretched about us, unsoiled, broken only by the gentle tracks of animals.
Heading back to our clearing, a momentary lapse.
Off the road. In the ditch, stuck.
Chris sick, pale, feverish. Mile and a half to the corner store.
Leave him with the car, scared, with a blanket.
An hour and a half later, after calling for a tractor, I was hiking back to the car when I came upon Chris, forlorn,
whimpering on the road, thinking I had gone off and left him forever ...