A few days ago, I used the old Railway Station park as a starting point for a ride. If you've followed this blog for awhile, you might remember the story about this station in the 1950s. My parents were visiting relatives in Florida and stopped by to see my mother's cousin, I believe. She was a breeder of Siamese cats. Just to be polite, my parents went on and on about her cats, even though they are and were not cat people themselves. It must have been a convincing act because some time after arriving back in Kentucky, a worker from this railway station called to say they had a package to be picked up. Arriving at the station, they found the workers playing with a freshly un-crated Siamese kitten! The kitten grew to be a cat and was a part of the household until dying the week I was born. Growing up, I really had a profound sadness to have missed having that cat in the house, particularly when the stories would flow about how it climbed the curtains and wrecked havoc upon the house at times. Sounds like a cat with character!
"It was like a dust storm that cleared...and everything
was gone. So, yes, I understand how quickly things
An conversation about life changing moments