Strange Plants

The jolly man on his favorite toy—a souped-up riding lawn mower—waved to me and jammed the mower into gear. With a slight gnashing of gears, he dropped the tines of the rear-facing rototiller and began to carve a half-acre plot out of my Wisconsin back yard. My mom smiled at the sight of progress, turned and went back inside to do her “mom” things. My brothers and I climbed the nearby oak tree and watched our football field disappear beneath …


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