With 10 people staying in the house, we had a lot of warmth, but when the radiant heat started leaking, we fixed it anyhow. First step is to
break up the concrete to find the leak.
The last step in any project is to sign your name. (Neither of these is my handprint.)
The kids visit their grandparents.
It’s all part of saying thanks.
Somewhere in the world a cousin’s feet are wearing a perfectly matched mismatch.
Even before the last leaf falls, the buds for next year’s shoots are already in place.
I had my youngest nephew tell me where to point the camera. Kid’s got a good eye.
The leftovers dinner after Thanksgiving is in some ways a better meal.
Nobody’s worried about whether the whole meal will come together on time.
The flavors in the food have commingled and cured.
Nobody has to be on their best behavior.
And, as a result, everybody is.
“Hi, Papa. I look sweet, don’t I? Keep on dandling me on your lap. Do you think for one second I’m not going to belt out a big Italian aria the minute you try to strap me into that dumb old plastic car seat?”
The hard part of saying hello is knowing it’ll turn into goodbye too soon.
When no more fits, it’s time to quit.
With 10 people staying in the house, we had a lot of warmth, but when the radiant heat started leaking, we fixed it anyhow. First step is to break up the concrete to find the leak.
The last step in any project is to sign your name. (Neither of these is my handprint.)
The kids visit their grandparents.
It’s all part of saying thanks.
Somewhere in the world a cousin’s feet are wearing a perfectly matched mismatch.
Even before the last leaf falls, the buds for next year’s shoots are already in place.
I had my youngest nephew tell me where to point the camera. Kid’s got a good eye.
The leftovers dinner after Thanksgiving is in some ways a better meal.
Nobody’s worried about whether the whole meal will come together on time.
The flavors in the food have commingled and cured.
Nobody has to be on their best behavior.
And, as a result, everybody is.
“Hi, Papa. I look sweet, don’t I? Keep on dandling me on your lap. Do you think for one second I’m not going to belt out a big Italian aria the minute you try to strap me into that dumb old plastic car seat?”
The hard part of saying hello is knowing it’ll turn into goodbye too soon.
When no more fits, it’s time to quit.
Folding their tents, like Arabs, before they quietly steal away.
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