When I was a boy in the fall I got to watch a process that never failed to fascinate me.
There was an old building in the back of my grandparents lot. The boards were grey with age, twisted and warped so you could see ribbons of daylight from inside.
There was a huge flat table in there, anachronistic in that it was made of steel or something. And rows of shelving for storage.
Continue reading “Scallops”