“Yep,” Eli said, not taking his eyes off the field. She sighed and turned back toward the garden. “Then it’s only going to get worse.” That afternoon, Eli hauled two spare pieces of plywood from the barn and set up a makeshift signpost. With red paint thick and wet, he wrote in big block letters: “PRIVATE PROPERTY – NO PARKING, CROPS IN GROUND – DO NOT ENTER”
He propped one at the corner near the main road and the other farther down near the back fence. It wasn’t elegant, but it made his message clear. By Sunday morning, the signs had been knocked over. One lay face-down in the mud, the other kicked onto its side like trash.