Baker's Branch

  I’m pretty sure the last s’more I ate was about forty years ago. We ate some out here on Baker’s Branch a couple of nights ago that God pretty much handed us on the wings of a storm.   My yard, which is composed of way more trees than grass, was left littered with deadfall after last week’s latest round of near-miss tornadoes. A group effort was made to gather up all the loose limbs and logs, even, and pile them up in one place for a future removal bonfire, something still legal out here in the country. Men and boys still pee in their own yards out here without fear of arrest, too, the ladies knowing which windows not to look out of during daylight hours. Hard to believe people are still living that way, right? Welcome to my world. I’ve heard it’s now legal for men and women to pee in the same restrooms, back East, today; at the same time, even. You’re welcome to that world. Anyway, we make fires out here when the wind blows right. I set fire to the pile about three hours be...