I have been blessed — some would say cursed — with a pretty active imagination. It has come in handy for writing fiction, including two published novels. But it can be a real disadvantage on those stormy nights when I finish the latest Stephen King book and still have to go out in the dark for evening chores. I cannot tell you the number of times I’ve forced myself to venture out, all the while repeating out loud, “There is no such thing as zombies/werewolves/vampires/satanic cars.” But most of the time I have fun creating my own little stories, especially the ones that involve appearances from the real-life critters here on Rusty Metal Farm. A few years back my friend Julie and I spotted a small mouse swimming for all he was worth across the Rusty Metal Farm pond to the island in its center.