It was what I wanted to believe. The kids understood more than I could say in words. They knew where meat came from. They knew the goats gave milk and...sometimes meat. They knew the chickens at Del and Maribelle’s got roasted or fried.“We’ll put Gypsy’s ashes in the River,” Matthew said. Shit! I cried, petting her cheek as she breathed out her last breath.We had a fire that night. No, we didn’t burn Gypsy. Larry loaded her in the back of the farm trailer and hauled her to Columbus early Monday. I then borrowed a couple of pairs from the airing cupboard and used them to help fulfil my fantasies. Before long I began to have thoughts about her panty drawer and what its contents may look like. I got the opportunity when I was alone in the house one Saturday afternoon. I sneaked to her bedroom and had to open two or three draws to find the right one and then – bingo!There they all were. Dozens of pairs in all colours, materials, shapes and sizes. I spent a few minutes inspecting some of. More

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