I think this fellow was in the woods outside my bedroom window last night. Around 3 a.m. I heard a flutter of wings and soft who-whos. I love the sound of an owl at night. There's something comforting about it. I fell back asleep to his mnutterings!
Long ago and far away, ad men used to precede the coming of a rural traveling circus, and pay farmers a pittance for using their barns for advertising. Sadly, most of the barns have faded into memory. Here's a digital collage of what one might have looked like. Thanks for your visit.
The very word "crock" conjures up for me images of my grandmothers' homes, primitive furniture, soft, worn old quilts, rag rugs on old pine floors, wonderful smells from the kitchen, old crocks here and there with the patina of many uses and many hands, the smell of oil lamps, the laughter of family togetherness, and the faces of beloved family members now long gone. Thanks to Marie for this challenge that took me down memory lane!