“Seventy-six trombones led the big parade.”
Well, not quite 76, but I am sure that old Harold Hill would have been really pleased to see the seven trombone players pictured here marching in our county’s annual Corn Festival Parade.
Tag: black and white
searching for the wind
For this post: our Midwest sky near Ransom, IL. This is one of the few remaining summer skies around here. Fall is slowly moving in.
this little guy…
…makes us laugh…our 2nd grandson.
my office
Technically it’s not my office, but I do work here. Any guess as to what my “day job” is?
a very special football fan
As promised, here is a very special and delightful football fan from last Friday’s season opener. She totally has the cute market cornered and made my night!
go mchs!
For this post (and perhaps the next): a little slice of home town life. As Summer makes preparations for Fall to arrive, and school hallways are filled with students, the fields come alive with football teams and, our favorite, marching band! This was taken at tonight’s home opener. It is senior year for our youngest son and we are looking forward to a great year of Friday night games and competitions.
new ride
The Indian Scout Sixty is an absolute blast to ride….uhh….thought you might want to know that. Cheers!
the stillness of morning
…an early morning journey…
….chasing my shadow into the west…
…then peace…
…in the stillness of morning…
see these shells
See the shells? I never thought that I would hate seeing sea shells. I love the shore…I love the ocean, but these shells…these shells I would rather not see. Do you see these shells? These jagged, dirty, sad, colorless shells serve as the sidewalk…the road beneath the bare feet of those beautiful children who run across these shells, which occasionally are submerged in sewage…see the shells?…these shells supporting a young boy whose silent stare and precious smile invade my heart…shattering my bent to complain about the smallest inconveniences in my comfortable smart phone filled life…see these shells? I will never again see shells without remembering to pray for the precious men, women and children of Cite Soleil in Haiti. I am eager to return to this city, these children…I don’t want to see these shells, but I will return for all those unseen children….those unseen families….
i am here
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