By Hal Walter
Many of us move to the country or the mountains to carve out a rural existence with the idea we are going to simplify our lives, get away from the craziness. Somehow it doesn’t always work out this way.
At least it hasn’t for me.
This notion occurred to me on a recent Sunday morning as I was quietly grinding away with a hacksaw at welds on a driveway cattle guard. On the other end was a 1,200-pound horse named Jack with his hind leg caught in the big steel grate made of angle iron and plumbing pipe.