“RUN!!!” She screamed at me, and I ran! We knew we shouldn’t be there, but we did it anyway. We climbed through the fence into the forbidden zone of the cow pasture, not realizing that sometimes there was also a big feisty bull with the cows. My cousin, Lou Ann and I, spent the summer on her grandma’s farm in Ohio, a foreign planet for twelve year olds growing up in the 1970’s where we gathered eggs from the hens, and watched women iron aprons and pillow cases in the kitchen. We perched on silvery stools like princesses eating fresh eggs, biscuits and bacon.