This roadside memorial is next to the highway just east of Watson.
My heart always gives a little flip when I drive past it, because this lad was in school with Emil. He had recently graduated, gotten himself a job in the oil patch I think, and was on his way back to work early one morning after a visit with his parents in Wadena when his truck rolled into the ditch and he was killed. I don't think it is known what caused him to lose control of the vehicle; road conditions were good.
I'd never stopped to have a close look at the cross, until I was on my way home from Humboldt the other day. The greenhouses are open and I've been visiting them.
Last night my lovely bedding plants were shivering in the glassed-in deck, so I brought them in. This morning there is some snow on the ground near the house. It's so cold on the deck that I don't want to put them out there for the day; instead I've carried them all to the kitchen table, where they can at least be next to a window. I'm glad to have them there anyway, where I can admire and talk to them. Who needs a table to eat on? I've got a lap.
We did have several warm days when I was able to spend a few hours in the garden, with my trusty horseshoe hoe. The slough near the house is so loud with frogs that even indoors, with a couple open windows, the sound permeates the air. Between that and the flocks of snowgeese flying over the yard, Golden Grain Farm is a pretty great place to be these days. When I'm in the garden the supper hour goes by without my noticing; the fellas can fend for themselves; I have spring fever.