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a note to his wife

My father was always having a cup of coffee (and – sadly – an unfiltered Camel cigarette) by 4:30 a.m. every morning before going to work.  Naturally, the rest of the household was slumbering and dreaming (hopefully Sweet Dreams).

He walked to work; our house – formerly a parsonage –  was next door to the Farmington Daily Times building.  He would come home for lunch.

Daddy was always leaving little notes on the kitchen table for Mother.

This man would be at work by 5:00 a.m. (at the latest) and home for a quick lunch (generally about 11:30) and would work until the newspaper was ‘put to bed’ and hours after that.  Every day.  Every single day.


notes to myself

Hugh Prather writes “Simply keep a place in you where it is welcome, and peace will come and abide with you.”

My Thought and Photo Bulletin Board floated out to the Gulf of Mexico in the 1998 flood; I surprised myself to discover these photos while organizing all of the photo memories.  It is different now – with digital cameras – no ‘hard copies’ of photographs.

thoughts . . . and notes . . . to myself . . . [quite likely we all talk to ourselves] . . .