After a few false attempts of trying to write a six sentence story using flow as the cue word instead of plow, I think I am finally ready. I guess I just needed some practice to get my words ready to flow. I am linking my post to the blog hop, Six Sentence Stories - Plow hosted by Denise of Girlie On The Edge's Blog.
The property had been passed from one generation to another as were some of the stories of the past.
Even though many of the items were no longer usable, and had been replaced with faster or more convenient models, they still had a purpose.
A scrap-metal yard or an antique dealer would have perhaps paid them for some of the farm implements, but with some consideration, they decided the time wasn’t right to get rid of them.
With grand pop still living in one of the rooms of the house and junior’s family occupying the rest of the house, junior and his siblings mutually agreed about not trying to uproot grand pop from all that was dear to him, for as long as possible.
The rust colored plow, harrow and a menagerie of other equipment was placed on the stretch of mowed grass lining one side of the long driveway and a couple of old wooden picnic tables and benches were set up at the end nearest the old farm house where wafts of roses lingered in the air.
It was a rare week when no one stopped by to chat the breeze with grand pop about the old days, which conversations gave him a sense of purposefulness and reassurance that his knowledge was still needed, valued and interesting.