I just got out of bed. It's past midnight, but my mind kept wandering and the place that I was led to was The Farm. There are so many stories and memories of that place. So many things I learned. Some of them were already making me laugh as I laid there. But I thought, Hmm, maybe I need to write these things down. I have kept a journal since I was given one at the age of 8, but there are so many things that an 8 year old can't quite describe and explain, and especially have the realization of the lessons that were to be learned while growing up. And what a better time to start my autobiography now, than when I'm 80 trying to remember these things. This may just be mostly a journal of my thoughts and memories and no one else will really read it, but maybe there will be some interested in the stories I have to tell. And maybe I can get the whole family in on this and we can laugh and share stories with eachother, and maybe even cry (poor pete). Haha, maybe.