THE SONGS OF A NIGHTINGAIL

  My husband’s maternal grandfather, Harry Brasier in light colored suit, relaxing in what appears to be a rocking chair while visiting with friends in the early 1900s. My Dad and me relaxing in 1942 in our favorite backyard garden chairs which he made. Dad & Mom relaxing in camp chairs around a campfire at Lake Tahoe probably in 1945. Dad, in the 1960s relaxing in his favorite living room chair.  My Grandma Louise peeking in. Dad relaxing in a rental cabin chair on a family snow trip in the 1960s. My Dad relaxing in my husband’s recliner during a visit at Christmas time, 1974.  My husband was fixing something on our eldest daughter’s jumper. My Dad, yet reclining in my husband’s recliner, has a sweet moment with his eldest granddaughter. Still in the recliner, Dad is looking at something his grandson is pointing out to him. 1975 - My husband finally relaxing in his own recliner but with our three kidlets climbing on top of him – a familiar sight.  Dads are for c...

  Concord, NH Ford mail truck No brick wall here, but I didn’t want to leave this dump truck out. Interesting old truck from the 1920s. The lettering on the truck in the prompt photo reminded me of a weird thing that happened years ago. I was driving on a 4-lane highway in the slow lane heading up a hill and came up behind a large truck & trailer, so moved over into the fast lane to pass it. As I drove past the truck I thought I saw a man dressed in red & blue crouched in between the cab and the trailer of the truck??? With no one behind me, I slowed down to let the truck catch up to me so I could take a better look at it thinking I must have seen some sort of painting on the side of the trailer?  But no.  The side of the trailer was blank – nothing painted on its gray side, and no one was crouched between the cab and trailer?  Shrugging, I sped up and continued on my way. A while later I was heading up another hill and, seeing smoke at the top of the...

  Most of the places I’ve lived in over the years have had welcoming front porches. This is the brick porch of the house I grew up in, in El Cerrito, CA in 1941. And in 1957. This was the first house I lived in after my husband and I were married.  It was a lovely 3 bdrm house on the Forest Service station in Requa, CA just north of the Klamath River.  It had stairs leading to a sort of duck & cover front porch.  Not really much of a porch and we never used it to enter the house.  We came in the kitchen door as that’s where we parked our car. The front porch of a rented log cabin in Gasquet, CA in December, 1968.  After our first child was born, my husband, with the permission of the owners, constructed a safe railing around it. Four years later we were living in a different cabin – still in Gasquet - with a large covered front deck. From that cabin we moved into an old 2-room school house that had been renovated into a 5 bdrm/2 bath home with a generou...