Way back when Ma first took in her foster children, she had to call their social worker for some ordinary reason. The person who answered the phone there said the social worker was not available, as she was out in the field. My mother, perplexed, related this conversation to me and asked, "What the heck does that mean, that she was out in the field?" To Ma, being in the field meant one thing and she couldn't see that social worker digging beets or picking corn.
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