Old cat, old rug

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I once saw a cowslip through a fence, was an old joke I thought of as I squeezed my body between the metal bars of the locked gate at the Circle V, to take a closer picture of the painted sign I like. I drive by here on my way to town.

The old rug on my back porch is one of my favorites. The twisted black rag stripe in the rug is called a Turkey Feather.  I've been weaving littler, cotton yarn arrows like it, into  my new table cloths.
Mama Kitty is 14 years old.  She was a kitten when we first built my store and workshop, in 2000.

It must be August, when the Amish stack straw. This is one thing I really like the way they do.