I grew up with stories about "life on the farm" from my Dad. He talked about feeding the barn cats by squiriting them with milk directly from the cow's udder. He also described long days and back breaking work as well as worrying about crops and "making ends meet". We visited his childhood farm home a few years ago and wandered through the abandoned house that has since been torn down. In it were bits and pieces of former tenants....a doll, an old chair, dishes. The house and barn sat atop a hill on the most gorgeous piece of land. It seemed to me to be haunted by the ghosts of all those who had once called it home. This is my entry for the Saturday Surprise challenge this week.