
WEIGHT: 47 kg
Bust: A
1 HOUR:80$
NIGHT: +100$
Sex services: Lapdancing, Massage, TOY PLAY, French Kissing, Swinging
We lurched down a rutted dirt road past the old clapboard farmhouse where he grew up. At 72, Jim is so slight that he nearly disappears into his baggy plaid shirt. But he drives his tractor like a dirt bike. We sped past the caved-in hog pen and skidded down a riverbank. The tractor tipped precariously toward the water, slamming into a fallen tree, but Jim just laughed. When we had gone as far as the tractor could take us, Jim climbed off and squeezed through a barbed-wire fence.
The Tennant clan farmed the fertile patch of soil around the home place for more than a century. But the family got by, eating turtle and muskrat and peddling anything it could grow or forage—wild watercress and elderberries in the spring; ginseng and lima beans in the summer; hay and apples in the fall.
Their West Virginia farm eventually grew into a acre operation, with more than head of cattle and enough corn to pack a foot silo. Jim and his wife Della bought a house on an adjoining plot of land and swapped the outhouse for an indoor toilet.
Then, in the early s, DuPont, which ran a sprawling chemical plant called Washington Works in nearby Parkersburg, approached the family about buying some acreage for a landfill. The Tennants were wary of having a waste dump so close to the farm.
But DuPont assured them it would only dispose of non-toxic material like ash and scrap metal, and so they agreed to sell. Shortly after the deal closed, Jim and Della, whose home abutted the new landfill, say their two young daughters started wheezing and hacking. But most of their relatives stayed, and Jim and Della continued hunting game and eating beef grazed on the farm.