I felt like I as walking into one of my drawings. When we first got the B&B in Vermont on Friday it was just after 3pm and the cat was sleeping on the bench. I didn’t think to take a picture as we walked up the stairs with our overnight bags on our shoulders. But when we got back from dinner I got this picture just as the cat was leaving, for what I assume was her nightly hunt.
I don’t know what’s up with that big clock on the porch and how the cat just happens to make that bench her bed, but suddenly my drawings seem a little less surreal.
You have a great way with words. I wish I had been so blessed. I’m great at many other things but not words.