End of the Day

So a little slice of Jarrod. One is my elementary school. The other is a cemetery. That stone wall you see in the one separates the two. I grew up playing in a playground that abutted a graveyard.

It was especially interesting the day there was a funeral for a member of the Hell's Angels, with rival Motorcycle Clubs in attendance. They assigned a member of the club to guard the schoolyard. My Mother was a volunteer at the school, and talked with one of the Hell's Angels for a while. He seemed nice.

Lost Cause

It's been a little while, so here are some more from my Backyardigans series. I have alot more of these, too many to post actually.

In January I'm going to borrow a page from a friend's book, and perhaps print all of them small to arrange in a large grid like manner... Not really sure yet, but I'm still working out the logistics.

It still surprises me, some of the junk I find out behind my house now. It seems to come in waves, presumably when the company is gearing up for a big job, I find more hazardous crap blocking my back door. There was a wind storm a couple of weeks ago, nothing major, but it looked like a hurricane had rolled through.

Now there's a storage pod for the top of a car. Where'd that come from, I wonder?