I miss going to the farm when I was young. I miss our duck that thought he was a turkey. I miss Bobbin, our horse, that thought he was a dog. There was the bull that liked his head to be scratched and the oppossum that had a nest in the hay barn. In the summer the grasshoppers would buzz loudly and jump as I walked across the field with the sun beating down on my head. I miss canning green beans under the cedar trees out back and fishing with my cousins. I miss my Grandfather picking tomatoes from his garden and my Grandmother cooking in the kitchen. I miss swimming in the creek and ripping my cutoffs on the slick rocks. Don't you miss the country?
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