Get 20M+ Full-Text Papers For Less Than $1.50/day. Start a 14-Day Trial for You or Your Team.

Learn More →

Zora's Quilt

Zora's Quilt FICTION Mary Lynn White "You ain't gonna grow potatoes that way in this country," Zora called out as she walked heavily across the field toward me. I was energetically mixing some hard-earned goat manure into the soil. "You've got to give 'em some fertilizer if you want 'em to make. Right now and when they come up good. I got some 10-10-10 over't house," she offered, coming up beside me, bracing herself with the hoe she used as a walking stick. "Oh, no, I'm fine," I said, wiping my forehead with a goat-manured glove. I was proud of the fragrant droppings I had forked into the wheelbarrow and bumped down the path from the neighbor's farm. "This will do the trick. I think there's one more load in the barn yet." "Well, whatever you think," replied Zora. "No wonder your hands are so soft and pink, with you wearing them gloves. I never could stand 'em. Anyway, let me give you a hand," and she flipped the hoe around and started making trenches. When the potatoes were safely underground, we walked back to Zora's for a bowl of banana pudding. Though I'd been casually introduced to Zora by http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Appalachian Review University of North Carolina Press

Loading next page...
 
/lp/university-of-north-carolina-press/zora-s-quilt-npd3yOnTs4
Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Berea College
ISSN
1940-5081
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

FICTION Mary Lynn White "You ain't gonna grow potatoes that way in this country," Zora called out as she walked heavily across the field toward me. I was energetically mixing some hard-earned goat manure into the soil. "You've got to give 'em some fertilizer if you want 'em to make. Right now and when they come up good. I got some 10-10-10 over't house," she offered, coming up beside me, bracing herself with the hoe she used as a walking stick. "Oh, no, I'm fine," I said, wiping my forehead with a goat-manured glove. I was proud of the fragrant droppings I had forked into the wheelbarrow and bumped down the path from the neighbor's farm. "This will do the trick. I think there's one more load in the barn yet." "Well, whatever you think," replied Zora. "No wonder your hands are so soft and pink, with you wearing them gloves. I never could stand 'em. Anyway, let me give you a hand," and she flipped the hoe around and started making trenches. When the potatoes were safely underground, we walked back to Zora's for a bowl of banana pudding. Though I'd been casually introduced to Zora by

Journal

Appalachian ReviewUniversity of North Carolina Press

Published: Jan 8, 1995

There are no references for this article.