This picture must have been taken 25 years ago. That’s my father in the chair, my son looking over his toy lawn mower (must have been his birthday) and then there’s me. Golly, I look so young.
The first house my wife and I owned was in Colerain Township and whenever I think of that house, I think of the color orange—orange chair, orange sofa, orange curtains and even the carpet had some orange in it. We must have liked that color.
Moving ahead 25 years, I’m no longer married, my father is gone, my son has a real lawn mower and I no longer look young. Nothing stays the same—even when it comes to the color orange. Now, the only orange that I see in my living space is in the fruit bowl.
I’ll be back here on Wednesday.
(I don’t know who took the photo. Hell, it was over 25 years ago)