Carefully Grandpa shuffled down the barn stairs, a trip he has taken countless times. He used to climb the steps two at a time, but that was a long time ago. Today his stride is measured and slow, leaning heavily on the handrail. He pauses at the bottom to catch his breath. He is in no hurry; the cow is already in the stall where she waits patiently to be milked. He pats the old girl’s neck and gives her…..
The outhouse no longer stands guard on the hill. It’s been gone for years. As have the chicken-coop and the cattle. Once the farm teemed with livestock, now all is eerily quiet. Through the eyes of a young boy, the green-shingled house was huge. Nearby the barn was painted a vivid red. Its cavernous interior a haven for life: cows, cats, mice, owls, and countless spiders and crickets. In the Barnyard stood the skeletons of better days, the hog-houses. Sheltered…..