Veronica loaded her woven basket with various sundries that she assumed her parents could use and she would consume during the weekend. She ran her fingers along the dusty shelves and just enjoyed the quiet time with this familiar space.
Along the walk to her parents hobby farm, she picked at the lazy Susans, daisies, and cow parsnips. She tossed them in her basket as she waved her hands over the grass, took in the sun, and walked along the dusty gravel road. She hadn’t told her parents that she was coming, so she wasn’t surprised to see her father on the tractor, plowing the plot that held winter vegetables readying it for fall. Her mother was weeding the tomatoes.