Just a few dozen small dwellings dotted the wintery landscape below us. Most were little better than huts with tendrils of smoke coming from the stone...chimney. That smoke was from the fire which had cooked the evening meal, the main meal of the day. It was usually a thick gruel of root vegetables, cabbage, and a few bits of meat if they were fortunate. This and a surprisingly hearty peasant bread were the daily fare. Water was the usual drink, though a steeped concoction of crushed acorns and. Did I detect a crush?We arrived in front of one of those big, solid, stone, two story colonials. You see them all over the affluent parts of Wisconsin., Dot dragged me in, without ceremony.Her mom had shed her waitress uniform and was standing there in a house dress, with her hair up in a bandana. She had obviously been cleaning. More importantly, she was a dead ringer for Eve Pederson, the Doc’s wife. Dot would soon look like her mother, whose name was Barbara, and Eve looked like Dot. So,. More

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