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Summer camp for me was a visit to my Aunt June’s dairy farm in Mississippi. We’d rise early for breakfast and then bring in the cows. I would slop feed into the troughs with my cousin Greg while my uncle James Royce managed the milking. Chores were nonstop until noon. And we didn’t always approach them with cheer. June would sometimes scold us when we loafed, “Start it like you’re gonna finish it.”