It’s not easy to hide the scent of 90 pounds of marijuana.
Taking a red handkerchief and wiping his forehead, drops of sweat from his face hit my white canvas paper.
Putting my paint brush down, I looked up to my Paw Paw with that stern look that every kid has etched on their young faces in such instances.
My brother and I farm in and around Holly Bluff in the South Delta. My dad farmed here before us. It’s a proud, family tradition that runs deep throughout Mississippi with many of us stubbornly sticking to our agricultural roots.