You Can't Swing a Dead Cat...

...but I can.

Or, at least that was my first chore upon arriving in Kentucky on July 4th. It seems that somehow, a stray cat had curled up and died under the deck that leads from Momma's back door to her cement pond. Momma had alerted me a couple days prior that "something stinks" outside. Only through the eagle eyes of Nephew Jack did she come to learn that the cat was not her cat, Scarlet, but rather a mean, old, ugly gray cat. (Not that gray hair is automatically associated with mean, old and ugly.) Scarlet had been MIA for at least as long as the smell of death permeated air around the house. Momma had feared that Scarlet was the victim. Now she has concluded that Scarlet just couldn't handle the odor, either. So, I retrieved the cat by crawling under the deck. With Gardner's help, we found it a new, final resting place.

The trip to Kentucky was planned at the last minute, on Thursday night, right before a Friday morning departure. With storms in the forecast in the northeast, it just seemed logical to go South for the holiday weekend. So I did. I will return to the Big Apple on Wednesday. In the meantime, I will make the most of being in God's Country.



Completely unrelated, here is a photo of me from my senior year in high school (almost 20 years ago!!!). It was some event happening in auto shop. I don't remember that day, but it looks like I was in charge of serving the beans. With that tie, it must have been a very fun time! So, I'm guessing: barbecue!