This guy . . .

I was working outside today at my own pace; it was warm and the breeze caused strands of hair to flutter across my eyes and dry leaves to scatter along the driveway. It’s times like that I get to thinking and today I was thinking of this guy:

little-guy

“He looks like he’s going to cry.” That’s what my dad said when he saw the picture one of the times he and Mother came to West Chester. I can see my dad now, sitting at the end of the trestle table, eating a sandwich and chuckling at the picture. Sometime I will post  my school picture when I was that age – I looked like I was going to chew nails and spit them out. Kind of my usual expression.