The days of s'mores around the backyard stone fireplace are as long gone as the fire that warmed the marshmallows to a perfect golden brown. The limestone has given way to time and neglect.
Even after the stone chimney was no longer a place to grill a hotdog on a stick, it had a repurposed life. But instead of a feast for the family, it was a feast for the imagination as a little girl played in the backyard, cooking imaginary meals with a saucepan and tea kettle. That little girl now has a baby of her own, who will no doubt invite her own dolls to make-believe tea parties some day.
And again, the stone chimney has new life, even in the midst of the County Line's version of urban - OK, rural - blight. A mama cat has nestled her babies in the leaves in a back corner.
Cats are like that.