I like to hear bells. The bell in this picture is at Bigfoot Wallace museum. There is no sign to tell where it came from. Growing up I was raised across from the Methodist church. I loved to hear the bell ring on Sunday morning. A bone chilling bell ringer was the day it was rung because the war was over. The house I lived in married and raising my children was in bell ringing hearing distance of Mission San Jose. I loved to hear that bell. Once I visited a ranch where they had a dinner bell by their back door. I didn't get to hear that one, but I could imagine how good it sounded to the family and work hands signaling supper was ready, come and get it.