On one of our experiences in country life, city style, my son and I had a lesson on how to cut branches and what kind to cut. It was the year of the hurricane, Hugo, and we were alone, just he and I. We had only been in the house for about three months, and my husband had not joined us yet. No one thought that any of the storm would hit all the way up into the Blue Ridge Mountains. We did not expect to experience any repercussions, except some hard winds. We did not suffer as so many places did along the coast, but we had havoc in our community. There were trees down and branches broken, and the electric out for days. The wood stove I had proudly purchased as a decorative piece, to give the house a more welcoming look, took on quit a different…
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Barbara C Rowe Author 