Terry Woster

"No one had ever told the cattle about the Fourth. They needed to have feed and water. And if there was field work that absolutely had to be done, we did that, too," columnist Terry Woster writes.

"I was told at some point, I can't remember exactly when, that developments in computers and high-tech communications would free me — and everyone else in the working world," columnist Terry Woster writes.

"These days, old age has shown me the benefits of one-story living. The farm house would have been a perfect place for 80-somethings like Nancy and me," columnist Terry Woster writes.

"My dad wasn't keen on Elvis at first, or, come to think of it, the Beatles. But he never told me not to listen to them," columnist Terry Woster writes.

"Are we through boating? I can’t say. I’m not ready to sell, but I am slowly starting to consider the possibility of life after the boat," columnist Terry Woster writes.

"My mother and father each died in the heavy-aired heat of a South Dakota summer, and they were buried in the prairie's cracked earth," columnist Terry Woster writes.

"Except for the triple-digit thermometer reading, Saturday afternoon at the Missouri River shore was a tourism promotion kind of day," columnist Terry Woster writes.

"You wouldn't think a lazy afternoon on the beach would set a guy to thinking about days on the farm, but it sure did for me," columnist Terry Woster writes.

Columnist I didn't realize it at the time, but working on the family farm for my dad and my uncle gave me solid job security, even when my performance could have been rated as sub-par.

"Sitting on a front porch in a gentle rain is a sensory experience, not an intellectual exercise," columnist Terry Woster writes.