Sunday Evening Post

Pictures from the week.

 High school vocal jazz ensemble.

This is their jazz shirt.

This is jazz hands.

 My son's school chorus belted out the hits. 

 Sweet Pea in side profile.

 A shot of my grandmother's nightstand.

 Here she is with my son.  She is ninety-three years old.  For a period of time during her childhood, she was raised by Native Americans.

We galavanted through Chestertown, Maryland and I saw this "Lost Cat" poster, which is an oxymoron.  Cats do not get lost.  They are conspirators and are far too sinister and conniving to lose their way.

Milo is either on vacation or was arrested.  If you see him, call his owners and let them know how much it is to post his bail.

 My family spent some time at the local park hanging with good friends and enjoying some decent weather.

 My wife wanted me to put this photo of a carrot in because she thought it looked like her mother's thumbs.  

 You have probably seen this "Obey" sticker around before, but did you know that the face is Andre the Giant?  I have nothing but love for Andre.  

 A shot through the surveyor's equipment.  I always see their tools on the side of the road, but never knew what it would be like to look through them.

Now I know.

 It seemed like everywhere I turned this week, a tree fell down.

It was sort of like the scene in "The Jerk" at the gas station.

(These oil cans are defective!)

Here we are clearing another one.

 Mike hit the big forty and went all Elton-John.

Crossfit.com.  

It has been about a month and it has been brutal.

See you next week.