ven though I told myself I would never ever do this on a weekend, I found myself, yet again, in the crowded grocery store on Sunday. I needed to go up the bread aisle and there was a man coming my way, pushing a cart. He looked like he wasn’t used to grocery shopping or pushing a cart, or being anyplace, really, other than a golf course or a leather couch, smoking a cigar and dusting off his reading glasses with an Egyptian linen handkerchief that has his initials embroidered on the diagonal of one of the corners.

He had a faraway look on his face. He wasn’t shopping for anything on the shelves that he was looking at, and he wasn’t edging his cart over to make room for mine. He was in mid-something. Mid thought? Mid…and then I smelled it.

He was crop dusting!! [read more HERE]
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