Old Rock House

I'd like to tell you that the cat on the bike is me...that's not me. But, I think I've seen that old rock house. Could be I just saw an old rock house that looked like this one, in a place that looked like this. I'll have to do a little research first to find out whether or not it snows in Ireland. I should have done that before I posted this, but I was in a hurry. My Ain't Dee Dee says she checks my blog every morning to see if I've posted anything new (she gets up around 4 a.m. every morning, so 9 a.m. is like lunch time to her). I don't want to disappoint her, because she knows people-- if you know what I mean. In any event, this is another cool picture I clicked and dragged off Huckberry.com. If the folks at Huckberry are reading this, I think you guys are a terrific group of folks and I can't wait to get that doggone hatchet that's Made in America. A woodsman can never have enough hatchets. A good woodsman is always in the market for the next hatchet or axe and is never completely satisfied with his last hatchet acquisition--or at least not for very long. Please don't tell my bride: she thinks I have enough hatchets right now. That's coincidental; I think she has enough shoes right now. I'll keep you posted....