Dear Peter

Dear Peter,

This is day ten without you here…the PTO on the tractor broke at the connector to the bush hog, the new zero-turn mower has two flat tires, the gator is running extremely rough, the leaf blower died…and the rooster went after me twice. I now go nowhere on the farm without Wookie the Aussie Shepherd chicken wrangler at my side.

Your good friend Calvin came over yesterday to deal with the equipment issues. He absolutely fell apart when I told him you were gone. I called him several times on your phone after you passed but he never called back…typical Calvin with his old flip phone, no texting and his own unique relationship to time…I finally drove over to his house to give him the news that you were gone.

I want to give him something of yours but I have no idea what.

Travis reorganized your shop, making it easier for us to find things, particularly on your work bench. He found those little leaf clippers you had been looking for.

The garden is doing well, we have little green tomatoes on the Fourth of July plants, the Cherokee Purples are making flowers, the Black Krim are taking their time. The cucumbers are sending out runners and the peppers are blooming. The watermelon hasn’t spread yet, the columbine is getting huge, the dahlias are bigger than ever, and the Calla lilies just bloomed a few days ago. The Jefferson Hydrangeas have just started their white balls of blossoms.

Have not heard your friend the Barred Owl since you passed…did you take her with you?

The house is so strange without you…it feels like it does when the power goes out, uniquely still.

I can’t do this…I can do this…you are going to walk through the door…you are not going to walk through the door…I want the world to stand still…but it doesn’t, and it won’t and the sun rises.