Page:They Knew What They Wanted.pdf/81

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It certainly is a pretty sight. Coming up I could taste the wind way down inside me. It made me think of where I used to live.

Where was that?

In the Santa Clara. You know, I wrote you.

Oh, yeah. In the Santa Clara. I forgot.

We had a big place in the Santa Clara. Prunes and apricots. Ninety acres in prunes and fifty in apricots. [Again an awkward silence.] I guess I’ll sit down. [She does so.] There ought to have been good money in prunes and apricots. But the prunes didn’t do so good and the apricots got the leaf curl.

You’re quite a farmer.

My old man was, but he got to drinking.