In town Old Ned (as he was called by everyone – including his wife) had risen early and cleaned his automated mill until every bit of stainless steel gleamed. All cracks and creases were hit with a stream of pressurized air and every part of his machinery looked at least as good as it did when brand new. When the truck from Toby’s ranch arrived he was more than ready. He backed the truck to a port much like the one next to Toby’s silo (His silo was much smaller, the one dump truck load would completely fill it.) and started the process of transferring grain from the truck. Ned worked the lever that controlled the size of the outlet in the tailgate of the truck bed as the driver lifted the bed a bit at a time. There were a few hand signals exchanged but both men had done this many times before and emptied the truck without any mishap. The driver and Ned exchanged polite words and papers with signatures and the driver headed back to Toby’s field. Ned pushed the one button that started the process of cleaning, grinding and bagging. The sounds that filled the one room shop were the ones he had heard hundreds, more like thousands of times and all the sounds were exactly as they should be so he poured himself a cup of coffee from the Bunn urn in the small corner he called his office and leaned back in his wooden chair.