Column: Not hungry for breakfast? Try reading this, then
WORTHINGTON -- I stayed overnight with Aunt Maggie and Uncle Bert. Now this was more than three or four years ago. On the farm east of Wilmont. There were kerosene lamps because Bert and Maggie did not yet have electricity.
When I got up in the morning, Aunt Maggie was frying pork chops and potatoes. Nice gravy. "Strange," I thought.
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