Yesterday, I made the trip back from Atlanta. It's been a wonderfully relaxing week. Plenty of time with my family and son. We told stories and made some new ones that will be used in future tellings. My niece, Katie, graduated from college, my sister-in-law got a new truck, and my son and his fiancée bought a new home. It was a nice week. I say that in the way my mother would say "that's a nice old dog".
We had two really interesting photo outings. I'll share those with you later this week, once I've had the time to sort them all out. Meanwhile, I hope all of you have a great weekend. Thank you for sticking with me during my down time.
His royalness, Prince Jacky, rules over his domain in our living room. This is his throne. Nothing is allowed on top of this table except for himself and his "throne". If you place anything else on his throne, he will get a bit of an attitude and knock it onto the floor. No wallets, keys, lamps or phones.
Petting is allowed and encouraged.
Laughter is a wonderful thing. My home, thanks to a large degree to my beautiful wife (not pictured here), is full of laughter. We don't need much of an excuse to laugh. Laughter and music are two of the most common sounds you will hear when visiting us. The result is a very happy home.
I am not trying to say that our home doesn't have it's times of tears or grumbling. It does. We are normal people living normal lives. However, we are happy and we laugh, and in my mind, the two are deeply connected. One may be the cause of the other. I don't know. I am a man and I don't delve too deeply into "feelings". For me, it's enough to have happiness and laughter sitting side by side in a place of prominence in our home.
Laughter... it's a wonderful thing.
When I was working on this image of my friend Debbie, my wife was looking over my shoulder and she instantly reacted to the photo. The image is an out take from several other images, but because of the laughter, it is my favorite from the day. The image, my wife's reaction, the smiles, & the laughter are all rolled together for me into warm thoughts of my home and how lucky I am.
That's my sister and I using Dad as a jungle gym while he's trying to read something technical and uninteresting to the two of us. Kelly and ire are rocking those footed Jammie's while Dad is sporting a classic ensemble of cuffed cords, fancy socks and penny loafers. Mom has always ensured that he dressed well. After all, he is her trophy husband. Isn't that so Dad?
Who's idea was the hat?
That's me on the right, the last time I was in charge. My younger brother is in the middle, still wearing a back cast. My older sister is on the left. Aparently, she had something tasty on her fingers.
I had an assignment on another site that required me to post some images of myself, when I was young. I knew which one I wanted to use, but it took me a little while to find it on a little used back up drive. To be honest, it took me a little while to find the back up drive.
As usual, when I finally gave in and asked my wife if she remembered seeing the drive, she reached out and plucked it out of thin air. I think she has a little magic running throuh her as she does this all of the time. She even teased me about it. "What are you looking for? You know I'll find it right away."
And, she did. She is the boss of me now.
It's not easy living in a box. The lifestyle is certainly not for everyone.
It's a tight space. At times you feel as though you don't have the room to turn around. You had better not have any claustrophobia at all.
You always get the sense that you are on display and that all the world is looking down on you for your choices.
Still, on the plus side...there are those naps. Oh, the naps.....
When shown an old bed, I've often heard people tell stories bout their grandmother's bed. About how they and all of their siblings would be tucked into the same bed when visiting grandma. Or maybe the memory of jumping up and down on the bed would bring smiles to their faces.
I can't relate to that at all. If we ever jumped up and down on her bed, my grandmother would have beat us into unconsciousness with a broom stick. A family story has my grandmother locking the infant me in the car one night because my crying was keeping her awake.
This in no way is intended to give the impression that I don't have fond memories of my grandmother. Quite the contrary, we often tell wonderful tales about her. It's just that none of them is connected to a bed. She would never have hit us with a broom stick. The business end of a broom is another matter entirely.
Tomorrow is a travel day. I'm heading back home, to Jodi. And here, we come full circle. I am really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed once again.
My parent's spare bedroom has a fantastic bed that has been around since we were kids. It's an antique with a really high headboard. Family legend says that a ghost named Matilda lives in the headboard. My parents used the story as a way of keeping us from jumping up and down on the bed (their bed at the time) when we were young. Which is better than beating us with a broom stick.
Still, I am really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed with my own pillows. No broom sticks please.
I'll post again on Wednesday. Have a great Tuesday folks.