Some of my favorite memories take place on my grandparents' farm in the 177-person town of Alexandria, NE. Limbo-ing our way under electric fences, learning the difference between cows and bulls, tiptoeing with trepidation toward the bank of the bottomless pond, shrieking in fear when my sister and cousins pretended to be Indians on the warpath.... (I'm from Nebraska. I was an impressionable child. Give me a break.)
Right before he passed, my Grandpa sold a solid chunk of acres to the state. All I know is that the purpose somehow relates to sewage, so I decided now was a better time than later to take yet another trek across the cornfields - with my sister, now as a less vengeful companion, my mom as tour guide, my father as grudging photographer, and my adorable nephew as a prop.