Until last weekend, I’d never attended a sand sculpture contest, despite growing up not that far from the SoCal beach scene. I have now rectified that oversight and I’m suitabilty impressed by the creativity and mad skills of the people who make these things.
I was born and raised in Southern California: Reseda, Torrance, Gardena, and Fullerton. I left in the fall of 1975 and never lived there again, but it’s still “home” when I think of where I came from and who I am now. I don’t go back there much any more since my Dad died in 2016, but my high school 50th reunion provided a reason to get back there at least one more time. So, trailer and truck safely stowed in Lancaster, off I went.
Seems like at least once a year, I make a stop in Lancaster, home to good friends with a flat driveway, a really nice guest room (and bathroom), and warm and wonderful hospitality. This time they even offered to watch Breeze and Luna while I did a long weekend in California (which will be the subject of a separate post).
Oh, it’s a damp, dreary day here on the western shore of the Chesapeake, at a tiny campground in Virginia. I was looking through my photos from the past month or so and decided it is the perfect day for sunflowers.
During the early days of the pandemic, I started hand-sewing quilts to keep myself from going crazy. I started with hexagon quilts, which were easy to do and easy to store away. Quilting gave my brain and my hands something to do, and I liked the end results.