Hello dear readers. Gas and plumbing were put in yesterday. Sorry I didn't post the picture yesterday, but things were somewhat chaotic here in O-town. Well, maybe not exactly chaotic. That's a strong word. But I never got around to posting, at least. I'm having to fill in here and there for one of our staff who's out of town, so I'm spread a bit thin. At any rate, enjoy the latest from 626.
While I was in Gulfport last week, I went through the Shoebox Archives on a quest to find some pictures of our good old front door. The door you see here in the second picture was the original door. The one with the little twirly doorbell. Some of you may remember it's dingle. Sounded sort of like a bicycle bell. That's me, front and center. Dad took lots of pics of me there. A few years later, we'd get a new door with a fancy glass design going on in it. I actually prefer this one, to be honest. Cause you can hide behind it and people can't see in. The glass door was tricky. You couldn't ignore the doorbell. People SAW you standing there in the hall like a goon. Also of note is my first Cabbage Patch Kid. His name (Yes, the doll was a he. Pink is very in for guys these days, and was also, apparently, for cabbage-born dolls made in the mid 80s) was Nat. I shoved a peanut in the little mouth hole that was intended for the pacifier and it rattled around in his rubber head. Probably still does, come to think of it. The doll survived Katrina--The Christmas dress made by my Aunt Rosemary, on the other hand, did not.
Onward and upward.
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