Tucked behind a magnolia tree on a busy Georgia road is a magical place--a simple country farm, unchanged by time. On this little strip of land, chickens scratch greetings and goats bleat hello. Sweet yellow corn grows tall, and curly bean vines reach for the sky. A burly tractor and a fifty-year-old Chevy wait inside the shed, ready for action.

For some folks, farms trigger childhood memories, such as Sunday supper at their grandparent's table, or recollections of past generations smiling from picture frames gathering dust on the mantle.

For 82-year-old Billy Albertson, his farm reflects a time before folks were hurried, or technology ruled our lives. Families grew gardens and feasted on fresh vegetables, adults spent time on front porches comparing stories, and children scampered barefoot through the grass waiting their turn at the hand-cranked ice cream freezer.

Spending time with friends on the farm is Billy's life. Here you don't have to be a gardener or blood kin to be family. Inside the pages of Farming, Friends, and Fried Bologna Sandwiches is a story about Billy and his magical farm.