These two old friends I knew when I was a small boy. They lived in a small, unpainted cabin on the top of a dry hill surrounded by trees--no water, no electricity, no car at that time.
Gurtis was always the storyteller, a clever man with no formal education. Alida was probably the kindest person I have ever known. She was always willing to help beyond her means.
They moved to a larger, nicer house after a few years and immediately took out the electricity. Fortunately, this house had running water from a spring located back up a wooded hollow. Gurtis had to quit blacksmithing, so he started mowing the nearby cemeteries with a small lawn tractor that gave him endless hours of tinkering time.
