First, let me introduce you to my grandfather:
He was the true Southern Gentleman. The caretaker in the family. He never met a stranger. So, it was no surprise when he bought a raffle ticket to support the local boy scouts.
The problem came when he won the raffle. The prize? A mare. Did I mention that the mare was pregnant? You can just make out the baby behind its mother.
I personally was thrilled! I was just a little girl and had visions of riding the pony through the pastures. The pony and I would be best friends. In reality, I was scared of it!
Just where does a man with no farm keep a pony? On a friend's farm, of course. (I still remember Mr. McKinney and his small farm. We used to fish in his pond.)
The following year my grandfather graciously donated the mare and her offspring back to the Boy Scouts to be raffled off.
No, Granddaddy did not buy a raffle ticket!
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