the sundry colorful tales that compose our days.

Dixon, CA

back at the old house again.

I spent my early childhood in a small farming town in the middle of California flat lands.  I loved it—the tight-knit community, the agricultural lifestyle, potlucks, parades, little league, etc.  After moving across the continent and then north and finally back again full circle to northern California, it’s a surreal experience to visit this place that looms so large in my nostalgia.  On our way to pick up Mommy from the Sacramento airport, we stopped by the old stomping grounds and Elliot patiently took the tour . . .

"that's where you lived?"

the same cracked sidewalk I rode my tricycle on.

the main drag.

I often wonder what it would've been like to have never left.

self-explanatory.

kindergarten through second grade here . . .

I still remember standing in that grass on the first day of school.

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