Yesterday my daughter and I braved the single digit temperatures here to stomp through a cemetery for the Graveyard Rabbit blog. Once done and in the car she was on her cell phone with her boyfriend and said, "I am spending quality time with my mother, I going through a graveyard taking pictures". Not every child can say that. She is 18, my second of two children and she has such a wonderful sense of humor and has been an easy child to raise.
Recently we moved from the apartment we lived in for about 8 years. When we moved I walked by the wall and there I saw some of her history that we were leaving behind. I never did like that apartment, it was a temporary place after we were moved out of our house (read "home") and we never did find another place. I suppose because I planned on moving from that town once she graduated high school that it was easy enough to stay put. So that wall gave me a pang and realization maybe it was more of a home than I allowed it to be in my mind. Home is where the love is, not an address. So I took a picture of the wall.
When a Grandparent is Scary – Week 13 (52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks) - As a small child, my grandfather cast a very long shadow. He was very tall and stood with an imposing military officer’s posture. He used to point his fing...
22 hours ago