I think it's a smile...

Okay, I'm sitting next to my bro and we're smiling. As shown in recent blogs I've been giving my brother a bit of a time. I'm just showing my love. It's true we didn't quite get along when we were younger, but somehow we lucked out and get along great these days.

never a smile on my face...

Okay, so I recently came across some of my favorite little me photos. Here I am again at 2.5 with my brother smiling as always. I believe he's smiling because he knows I'm freaked out. The only memory I have of being at Yellowstone is that everyone kept telling me not to touch the hot water or hot mud or my hand would get stuck or melt off or something. This was quite troublesome considering there was hot water, hot mud and hot geysers everywhere we went as tourists. I can even remember the pictures I created in my imagination of what would happen if I did accidentally fall in or touch any of the previously mentioned hot things. I hope to some day return to Yellowstone to see first hand what it was I was so scared of and to enjoy it. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

home...

Just returned from a trip home to Chico. I was lucky to grow up one block away from Bidwell Park and the Chico Creek Nature Center. This photo was taken when I was 2.5

I remember being pushed in a stroller down a bumpy path of hodgepodge cement with a bag of stale bread in hand to go feed the deer that lived in the deer pens. The deer never really cared for my bread but the geese sure did, although they would nip at my little fingers. I'm sure the look on my face is not due to the psycho geese, but highly more likely from my brother pinching me. See how happy he is?

Anyways, I had a great time strolling down memory lane in lower bidwell park this visit. I did my best to remember what it was like as a child there. I bent down on the bridges crossing Chico creek to get a child's height view through the bars of the bridge. I like the view above the bars better. One thing that remains constant is the size of the trees. They have always been gigantic and always will be. Unlike my childhood, I opted not to attempt climbing any sycamore trees. I remember what happens.... I get stuck.

happy morning...

The simple pleasure of watching steam rise from fresh brewed coffee on a crisp, sunny morning.

brrrr....

I love the ice patterns on my car. It's like it's covered with icy fur.