Summers we went to a small lake
near Beloit. Mom wanted to keep
us kids away from farm machinery.
We took my goat; she was a nuisance
on the farm. When we walked along
the cottage row on our side of the
lake we had to put the goat in our
rowboat and row her past a certain
cottage: the old lady living there
didn’t like the goat nipping off her
carefully tended flowers. The cottage
was called “Bide-A-Wee” or maybe
“Heaven’s Annex.” I forget which.
I do remember the fiery eyes of
the owner as she watched us
detour our straining animal!
2025 Jacqueline Jackson
This article appears in September 11-17, 2025.
