In Fremont, it was such fun to meet Ginny Peterson who told a couple of life on the farm stories. She talked a bit about her husband Phillip who “milked cows all his life” on the family farm. One night Phillip noticed some lights down in the field. The lights were pointed straight at the sky and wiggling all around. He was curious, so down he went.
He discovered a couple of hornpouters, who may have had a little something to drink. They’d tucked their flashlights in their back pockets, so the lights pointed straight up and wiggled as they walked.
He stood quietly by, unnoticed, and so happened to overhear one of the pouters say to the other, “That damned Peterson boy. He moved the pond!”
He discovered a couple of hornpouters, who may have had a little something to drink. They’d tucked their flashlights in their back pockets, so the lights pointed straight up and wiggled as they walked.
He stood quietly by, unnoticed, and so happened to overhear one of the pouters say to the other, “That damned Peterson boy. He moved the pond!”
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