
Little sparks of light in days of big worries. And sometimes grim moments. A photo diary.








































even our bird restaurant—Chirp-Fil-A—is quiet

it all seems even darker

kip trying to find friends in the street

new friends, the frenkels

a nose like cleopatra...

...and eyes like marty fieldman.

mom's fight

so glad i have somebody to play with

my soccer champ

we haz ONE peach!

we haz EIGHT carrots!

Bill Withers dies at 81. And it still is a lovely day.

Mom is tired. It has been enough, time to go home. Home to her Jim. The last corner.

A lead toy soldier's grave

Our 10th anniversary. Our journey is as weird as a John Irving novel.

Feeling boxed in.

The serenity outside, the storm inside.

We survived hurricane Jimmy, back to CoVid.
























































