Daddy Pete -- The perfect gift for a dad you love + more great books

For personal use. Please print only one copy from download. Thanks!

When Sister Alma Rose meets someone for
the first time, she always says, “How do you
do? I am Sister Alma Rosalie of Hilltop Farm,”
using all her names, you see, like in the
Middle Ages when people said, “How, now! I
am Will the Wainwright from the Swampy
Glen, forsooth.” And folks would call him
“Will Wright” or “Will O’Glen” or something,
to distinguish him from Will the Cooper from
the New Town on the Southern Bank of the
River Muddlebury or some such thing.

Sister Alma Rose is rather prim in the matter
of introductions, but she manages to be
gracious and warm at the same time. I
introduced her to Daddy’s Auntie Pru, or,
rather, I introduced Auntie Pru to Sister
Alma Rose, as is proper because Sister Rose
is the elder of the two, one rainy morning
on Sister Alma Rose’s big wraparound porch.

Sister Alma Rose extended her strong,
capacious right hand and closed it firmly
around Auntie Pru’s small, bony one, and
then Sister Alma Rose placed her left hand
on top of their clasped hands and squeezed,
causing Auntie Pru to wince, and it looked
for all the world like a Venus flytrap
devouring a moth.

Then Sister Alma Rose smiled, and the rain
stopped and the sun came out. I am
perfectly serious.