Leaving on a jet plane

How I feel when I fly

Expectations

How I actually look

Out to the Farm....

That's what we called going to Grandma's House. Grandpa & Grandma lived in Holly, on a hill overlooking Wildwood State Park & Lake. I spent almost every Sunday there. This weekend when Bob & I were out to the Rennesaince Festival (check that baby off my bucket list). I thought, maybe I can find the right road...and lo and behold- there it was....I took Bob down the road I learned to drive on (picture Terry screaming in the backseat)around the lake, and up the hill to Grandma's... It looks a little different. Gone are the rows of crops growing on either side of the house-replaced by a a nice lawn now....The barn is gone, couldn't see the gravel pit...But still there are the lilac bushes, and the basic footprint...I loved my Grandma...she loved me. I miss her, but i have a lifetime of memories of that love, butterfly kisses, and beautiful things hand crocheted just for me.... Once for New Years eve, she crocheted a little brown drawstring purse for me...and now it fits my kindle just right...thank you Grandma Sarah Louise Valentine Carlson Wright. (blink blink)

“A free people ought...to be armed” ― George Washington

These Boys....