THE ODDLY WAY JOHANNA
HAS OF SAYING THINGS
Up here in these mountains I usually
bring the washboard, and the bowl to
feed the cat. One or two are always
outside as well; 'feral' as it's called,
like they don't need or want a thing.
But for the one inside. Hark! those
feral felines sing, 'here we are, don't
need a thing!'' Something of that sort:
Wild Nature itself is. Where the flat
galumping river that flows goes it goes.
How bread more much we have? I
think she picked all this up in later
life, because when I knew her as a
kid, she was alright. Now that things
are different, they sure are.
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