Helluva

I was standing in line this morning in Sharpsburg, waiting to buy a breakfast sandwich at Battleview Market. And I distinctly smelled something barn-like. I did not overreact. I stood my ground. I wondered what it could be. Then I remembered I was standing in a line with more than one farmer. And I thought of my dad’s barn boots on the bus heater driving to school. And how the students complained until he wore different boots to school. And, indeed, that was the issue. Cow issue. Helluva great sandwich. Helluva good people.

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