Chapter 6. Asking the Right Questions

I didn't take the time to notice the big houses and the tree-lined streets on this drive through Darfield. I was too busy thinking about projects, plans, and presentations. Wherever I was going with all of this, I hoped that I could get there in a big hurry.

As I swung into my in-laws' driveway I could see Martha sitting on the porch in her rocking chair, smoking her pipe, just as I left her the night before. She was reading and looked up as I got out of the car. "Aren't you supposed to be at work, Willie?"

"A project is a plan!" I said as I rushed up onto the porch and sat down in the chair beside her.

She smiled a little and took the pipe out of her mouth. "I'm surprised to see you back here, Willie," she said. "Seems to me I wasn't giving you much help last night."

"I got to thinking about the question you asked when I was leaving," I admitted. "I pretty much forgot about it until things started to fall apart as usual at the first project meeting today. When I asked the group your question, everyone gave me a different answer.

I looked up the word project in the dictionary and, well, things started to make more sense. And since it was your idea, I decided I needed to come talk to you again."

Just then the front door opened and my father-in-law, Fred, walked out. Fred works the afternoon shift at the local sawmill, so he is usually home until about three. "Oh, hello, Will," he said. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?" It seemed like a popular ...

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