When I was young, I made a deal with my parents.

Here’s the story of how the deal went bad.

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This is just a garden-variety story.

My grandparents sometimes had a garden beside the barn in their backyard, and Pawpaw went to till it up one day.

My cousin and I went with him, to “help” I guess.

He tilled the earth, and we watched it turn.

For some reason, maybe just to play in the dirt, I was close enough to the ground to see some of it wiggle.

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I’m thankful for a lot of things, not the least of which is the fact tomorrow is Friday.

I jumped a little ahead of today’s “thankful” prompt with yesterday’s post, with personal recollections about a group of people for which most of the world is thankful so I thought today might be a good time for another post from the Casey’s Column archives.

Click the underlined words in this sentence for a look inside my mind on a night two years ago when I went outside to look at the stars and count my blessings.

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I have been an uncle for almost four years.

My sister and brother-in-law have twin girls and a son who’s younger than his sisters.

I think about the days they were born every now and then, because they were days to celebrate.

When those kids were born, I was just about euphoric.

I have probably told this story here before if you were to check the archives, but the day I became an uncle euphoria served me well.

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