I had no idea what we were doing was illegal.
I was six at the time.
And not well-versed in the milk pasteurization laws of Prince Edward Island.
And yet, there I was. With my grandfather and father. Three generations. Bandits all. Breaking the law.
My grandfather, for background, was born on his family’s farm in Sangsar, Iran, in 1911. In those days, the village had one street, one roundabout, narrow alleys, and small, clay-colored homes, all with brown doors.
That the village even existed was a miracle.
Two hours north were the lush green valleys and rainforests of Mazandaran Province on the southern coast of the Caspian Sea.… Seguir leyendo »