Four girls, best friends, One last picture to remember the summer before going away for their second year at college.

Will one choose a family
and Will one choose fame
Will one leave forever
and will one
bring them together again

We all have a purpose, a calling and a place in the puzzle.


Yes, this is Skippy; the dog.

My pal. Skippy was always smiling … Actually this is fairly serious pose for Skippy.

Skippy is no longer with us.

Years ago, when I was just a wee pup myself, there was another Skippy. He was the original Skippy. I still remember the day my Dad took Skippy to the vet for one last visit. I was numb as we said goodbye, as I watched the car pull away.

But this time it was my turn. If you’ve never taken that drive, that last drive to the vet with your pal, your Skippy. It’s beyond words. Walking up to the door of the animal hospital, the same door that Skippy had gone through so many times before. The young Vet tech behind the counter with a cheery ” and hows Skippy doing today?” and then she checks the book and she just looks away…

Skippy was always smiling, he gave me a great smile when we said good-bye that day

Patriotism – in the flesh

This is one of my favorite photos, it hangs on the wall of my living room, right beside the 11X14’s of my kids.

The photo is part of a series of photos that I took of a fife and drum group called The Colonial Boys at a Memorial Day celebration held at the town cemetary.

The group has been performing for over 50 years. I remember trying to find their WEB site …there is none, then I Google’d the name …no listings. Now that’s frustrating.

So on the Fourth of July there they were again, marching in the parade. So I gave them some of the photos that I had taken of them and asked if they wanted more taken. “Maybe, … but probably not”

It’s funny, they’ve never called. I think they say what they want to with their presence at town events and that’s enough.

Patriotism is a quiet thing. Kind of like one’s religion. Some stand on the street corners with your American flag ties and tell the world how patriotic they are …while othere just stand with their flags and be proud.

I like this photo, it hangs in my living room, right next to the 11x14s of my kids

In the Eye of the Beholder

I have zero talent for drawing. Not even in the eye of the beholder. No, my Mother did not put my “artwork” on the fridge.

It appears that my Daughter on the other hand does have talent. This is a painting that she did at college in her set painting class. (she’s a theater major) It measures about five feet tall by three feet wide and hangs in my home office.

I had heard about this when she was doing the painting, but come on, you don’t really think your kid is going to produce a mammoth piece of art like this. And it looks like real objects and people.

How many talents do we all have hiding …untapped. The un-discovered plethora of abilities. OK, so writing is not a talent of mine either …I’ll make a list.

C ya