1949 desoto
it happens every once in a while. that one day of the year. it's mother's day—and it's my birthday. sort of the same dilemma as the kid born christmas day. and the double hassle of trying to take/be taken out to dinner...ya, good luck with that.
i'm not big on birthdays. i don't care about the number. i just don't like the attention. and i don't need anything that i don't already have. besides, i have no place to put anything. whatever. game of thrones is on tonight, and it may rain, so there are my gifts.
i've spent the morning sifting through pictures, trying to decide what to enter in the fair this year. i've narrowed it down to about twenty so far. letting my better half have his vote, as usual, then i'll go ahead and enter what i think is good, but you can never tell what the judges will like.
i don't think i will enter as many as i usually do. aside from the entry fees, if they pick a bunch to hang at the fair, then i have to get them framed, and then after, i end up with a lot of pictures, and not enough wall space. i'm thinking i'll set up a page to sell some of the framed pictures from past fairs—they do no one any good sitting in storage.
anyway, my alarm just went off, to go pack up and head down to meet my kid for dinner, and a game of thrones viewing party. i'll just put up this shot from a desoto wagon we came across in buellton last month.