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That’s a big ole birch tree. Beautiful tree. Traveling with Dad is a study in trees. The kinds. The colors. The ages. One sees the forest AND the trees. When he worked, he was a forester. His specialty was wood procurement. Translated, he bought trees. I remember him coming homeContinue Reading

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Travel with Dad is a hoot. He rides shotgun, though he offers to drive. AFTER admitting that he got lost on the way to meet us in Columbia.

I am always reluctant to get behind the wheel when Dad is in the car. The combination is like a nuclear reactor. With a hairline crack. I barely geared The Tank into reverse before we had a situation.Continue Reading