I have some pictures from the last couple of days – the evening at Mother’s and yesterday’s trip to Kingman.

Oh, wait, I forgot. This is Cameron’s waffle stack.

And this is the little white cat at Mother’s; I don’t know if she has a name – maybe this is the cat Mother calls Little One.

Mother and Tiffany down for an afternoon read. I personally have my doubts about this cat. She managed to weasel her way into the house just after Tippy’s suspicious death.

Part of the yard in early evening.

The road in front of the house I’ve known forever. They brought my mother and me home from the hospital in an ambulance the first time I traveled on it.

Out back; I think I’m standing on the mound

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Ah, yes, Amish country.

Round barn in the distance.

My grandparents and father are buried here.

I wish I had been in video mode when I turned this way, looking at the trees giving way to the downward slope of the hill to the creek. Birds were singing; my father would have known which ones were which. There was a slight breeze. My throat was getting pretty tight at this point.

Still, there is always something kooky when I do things. When we drove along the road to where we normally pull off into a grassy area, I told my mother we couldn’t do that anymore. When she asked why, I had to say, “Because there is a dead person there.” It was a very fresh grave, no marker yet, just a white wooden cross that had “Grampy” written on it and some mementos left by children.