If I place this in the wrong spot please forgive. My grandpa passed away from liver and stomach cancer last Sept. Last night I remembered a conversation that we had when I was @ 9 or 10. He lived at the base of a mountain and we were walking back up the lawn arm in arm talking as we went. Don't remember mopst of the conversation but I can remember telling him that when I grew up that I was going to live on the top of a mountain like a hermit with just the animals as my friends. Grandpa just looked down at me and said "you pribably will porkchop". Shortly before he died we talked about that day and I told him I did it. I live at the top of the mountain that our town was named for, my closest neighbors are a quarter of a mile away in every direction. We could't afford to have the power lines so we run the house off a generator and propane appliances. Because of the PTSD I am the hermit because of the difficulty of leaving the house. Have two dogs and two cats. My mare died this past spring. Still have problems dealing with that. Coincidence or what?:think: