Every Saturday, we were out in the yard. My father would make his work list on a yellow legal pad, listing the chores and the work party leaders—the elder siblings included myself and my next-in-line brother Tom. Yard work entailed sweeping porches, picking up trash along our road, mowing lawns, pulling the grass out of the sidewalk cracks, and edging. But the one job that we all dreaded was weeding our rose beds, and weeding…
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