We'd like to expand this, if possible.

It's been a struggle to keep that cash there. We're kind of looking at changing our thought process a little. Maybe we could offer products (such as fertilizer or seed) as an incentive.

The ultimate goal long-term -- we'd like to see between 10 and 15 percent of acres in counties we work in seeded to winter cereals -- winter wheat, winter rye.

It will all be gone in two years. It's done. It's too bad.

Trevor climbed once again to the land of the living, naked except for an antique gas mask strapped to his face. As he peered through glass eyes like a mutant fly and breathed through the alien snoot, a single thought coiled through the booby-trapped labyrinth of his brain:
I need to be alone.
I need to be alone.
I need to be alone.

Trevor could almost see the invisible gas leaking from the broken furnace, billowing around his body, wafting in his wake from the laundry room to the living room, seeking out the nostrils of the realtor, the yuppies, the toddler, and every other goddamn trespasser before seeping into their bloodstream and infecting their cells until they dizzied, ached, barfed, and fell to the floor like a bunch of—
He caught himself.
He breathed through his nose.
He pushed away the hate, calmed the tornado strangling his gut, and thought of HER.