The day after the memorial, we are winding down, getting a chance for a great visit with my family, for one of those rare 'all together at once' times. We don't get to do those all that often, spread out over several large states as we are. One of my sisters, going through the floral cards, runs across this gem, which gives us a much-needed laugh:
Grandpa would have thought that a hoot.
the afternoon I take the kid over to the park for some play time. The
birds are out in full force--Cowbirds with their self-important barking,
Mourning Doves doing their grunting moan, the 'Ha-HA!' of the Valley
Quail. The trash containers at the local campsites sport these:
I love the 'Wait just a darned second there, buster!' attitude.
Nearby are a few old, abandoned trailers. The windows are broken out of one, so I cautiously stick the camera in.
This almost looks lived-in...
Until I turn the camera the other way.
Outside is more flotsam...I'm wondering who had the muscle to break the handle off of a cast iron skillet.
We also pay our respects at the fireman's memorial, which has a few changes since last time. I love the firemen on skis!
One from Isreal...
And arguably the oldest shirt there.
We also stop by the cemetery.
we head home early, so we go up to a local gas station/minimart to fill
the car. As I walk out I see a sticker attached to the top of a
newspaper vending machine, 'I pledge allegiance, not blind obedience'.
Some things in America never change.