I don’t know if I can actually call this place I grew up “home.” I do, but it doesn’t feel like it anymore, hasn’t for many years. Nothing really feels like home for me.
What a surprise, as soon as I drove up to my Mom’s, an Amtrak train passed. The 15 years I lived in that house by the tracks I only saw one passenger train pass there.
I always loved watching these guys scrape the gravel road in front of the house. I’ll be damned if they didn’t scrape while I was there. I couldn’t help but watch the entire time. I wanted to get in that thing and scrape that road myself. I want one of these things. LOL.
I couldn’t believe it either. The guys from the jail are back in stripes! They have them fixing roads and doing landscape. Hey, if I were to go to jail, I’d definately go for the vintage prison look.
Here is a cute sign near a nursing home. Remember those old “children crossing” signs? They have grown up on us.
I have no idea what this is. A welder lived there and made these. Reminds me of that bone cage in “Pirates of the Carribean II.”
Went out to the place where they make tombstones and the man who makes them showed me how he does it. First he makes a template out of a rubber sheet and then applies it to the granite. Then he sandblasts it and that is how it gets engraved. He then sprays the engraving with black paint.
Here’s an angel I’m having him put on my brother’s tombstone.
This is a crazy messed up photo, but I like it anyway.