Fishing for our supper with the sun in our hair; talking to the horses with mud between our toes; sitting on the porch with a cat on our lap, and a cat at our feet, and a cat at the window; nursing a gin; winning at poker; dancing in wellys; painting our nails; carving our names; reading a book; baking a pie; sewing a quilt; passing the time. (byov disclaimer: this is not a poem, so don’t act like it is) www.vanishingcatskills.us