When I was a kid, my grandparents lived on a farm and my sister and I (and cousins, on occasion) experienced many adventures there. This is a picture of the big, red barn - a little worse for wear but still an image of comfort - where my sister and I spent many hours with Grandpa holding squealing piglets, searching for kittens, and swinging like Tarzan up in the hay mow. Soon, the property will be torn down and turned into a cornfield or pastureland for hungry sheep or Holstein cows. The thought of so many happy memories being reduced to piles of rubble and hauled away is almost unbearable. I am so grateful, though, that the love I knew then and the happy times we all shared will be forever tucked away in my heart where they can never be torn down.