When I was young around 13, I thought the world was moving on without me.

On our farm, there is a tall hill that leads down to the land that is farmed. It floods in the rainy seasons so it isn’t a place someone could live.

At night, I would sit at the top of this tall hill and I could see the lights of towns to the north of us. There were two towns. I had been to one of the towns that was only about 20 minutes from the farm but the other one I had just heard about.

I would feel left out. I felt that the whole world was doing something and I was sitting here on this hill. I hated this feeling.

As soon as I graduated high school, I moved to a large city to go to college. I could not wait to get off that farm and live. Do all those things that have been going on since the hill sitting.

And boy did I do things. I stayed out late, I ate in every restaurant and I went to all movies, plays, exhibits and retail stores. Granted this was over the span of 18 years.

During those 18 years, I married my husband, worked for a large newspaper selling advertising, had a cellular phone installed in my car before they were hand held, found more than 100 great places for happy hour (most of which have probably closed down by now) and met many, many friends that most of which are still friends.

In 2000, our neighborhood was going down hill fast. What I mean by “going down hill” is the teenagers were different. They drove down the street with the music that was so loud, the windows vibrated in our house. Several times a year one of the punks egged our cars or house. One night about 2am, we woke up to the police outside our house. They had a kid on the ground and cuffing him. We heard the next day that he had robbed a house a street over and chased him that far. Whew. It just goes on and on.

One Monday afternoon as I was driving 10 mph in the middle of the rush hour commute, I talked with my mom. She told me how many problems my dad and brother were having on the dairy farm. Equipment problems. Help problems. Theirs just went on and on as well.

A few months before my grandparents had moved into town to a senior assisted apartment. There house was vacant for the first time since my dad built it in 1962. A light bulb went off in my head.

Mike had bugged me for years to move to the farm. He loved the country life. I couldn’t see any way that I could “move by home” if that were even possible. There was now a glimmer of possibility.

The farm paid our house and utilities. We only had our eating, gas and drinking expenses. Who ho! We’re moving out of Beverly Hills, Granny!

The first time back home that I sat on that hill and looked at the lights of those same two towns, I said, “I know what’s going on out there and I’m glad we’re here.”

Those 18 years in the city did help me to appreciate that hill.

This is Ralph the Wonder Horse. That’s what Mike calls him. Over the years I have raved so much about how much Ralph could do. No other horse has been able to live up to him and his gentle ways.

I loved to ride Ralph bareback as you can see in this picture. We would stop so he could munch on some grass and I would lie down on his back. He never tried to get away or be spooked by a noise.

Also, look at how he is posing in this picture. I’m not even holding onto his reins. He’s standing right up beside me.

He is also wearing a hackamore bridle. That kind doesn’t have a bit in their mouth. It has only a chain on the chin that tightens up when I pull back on the reins. I just hate those bits. I guess because he didn’t need it. I’m sure most horses do though.

In the background is the milk barn. My grandfather and my dad built that barn. They milked jersey cows in it twice a day, 365 days a year from the mid 50s until December 2004. That’s a long time. Before I was old enough to go to school, I spent many mornings in there with my grandfather helping him milk cows.

By the way, this picture was taken around 1972-74. I’m not completely sure but that’s close enough.

This is a picture of Bruiser with two of his cat buddies, Blacky and Big Grey Kitty. They are all three boys and they all think they are the same species. Bruiser even eats lying down because the cats eat that way.

Bruiser is also very smart. He learned to sit, lie down and shake a paw within a few days. I taught him to sit by putting my fingers to my lips like I’m eating something. If I’m eating something, he wants some too. Doesn’t matter what it is. He’ll even eat a tomato if he sees me eating it.

During the cold parts of the year, the cats sleep all over Bruiser. They each keep the other warm. It’s very cute to open the back door and they all look up with expressions that say, “What? What did we do?” Bruiser will have a cat on his back, a couple curled up as close to his stomach as possible and one or two curled against his back legs and butt.

Bruiser is such a sweet boy. Everyone that meets him loves him. At first they are unsure about him because he’s so big but he wins them over quickly. He loves to lean. He has to be touching a person. He can look at you deep into your eyes like he’s trying to understand what you are thinking. He will stare you down he’s so intense. Then his nub of a tail will start wagging and you just can’t help but smile. He wins the stare down every time.

Okay. Enough about the boy. Time to go give him a rub and a hug.

Now he's started something. And he doesn't like it.

A few weeks ago, Mike put a handful of cow cubes in a bucket and shock it so it rattled very loud. The Longhorn cow that's in the pasture beside our house walked over and ate the cubes.

He's been doing this every day.

Now when he comes out of the back door, the Longhorn cow comes to the fence and moos.

He complained yesterday that he's created a monster. One of our inside cats does the same thing (meows not moos) in the morning for a can of wet food. This drives him crazy.

I keep telling him it's all a Pavlov's dog reflex.

This morning, the Longhorn cow was already at the fence and when we walked out the back door. She was standing there looking at him. I just had to laugh. Mike just moaned and threw his arms up in the air.

He created the monster so I guess I'll call him FrankenMike!