The Big Yellow Horn

In my never ending quest to determine exactly who I am and what made me who I am, I have been thinking of my childhood back in the early sixties. I grew up in Southbridge and it was a nice little town. It still is. I think where you are raised, as well as by whom, is a big factor in how you yourself will turn out.

Sitting by the lake on a snowy afternoon

Here I sit at the little house on the lake, looking out at the cloudy sky, guessing it is going to snow, There is ice on the lake, although I am not certain it is safe yet. Buttons and Maggie the cat are sleeping in front of the stove, Maggie finally has begun to tolerate Buttons and has decided to end her self imposed exile to the bedroom and rejoin the family. Lately I have been thinking quite a bit about history, more precisely my history. I know what a surprise.