Notes on a photo
Yard of our home in the San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles, circa 1966.
I loved my grandpa.
A moment before he was leaning back in his backyard La-Z-Boy, and now he’s leaning forward anticipating the photo.
I remember his cane.
At the ready, I had dual modes of transportation.
At the time of this photo, I preferred the trike.
The picnic table has an awkward table cloth situation.
The Xs represent kisses, no doubt.
The puppy is an ancestor to Silas.
The swing-set seems awfully close to that wooden fence.
The barbecue is off kilter.
The yard had a fenced kidney bean shaped swimming pool to the left of this shot. I remember my dad’s big hands holding my big head, checking to see if it would fit through the wrought iron bars of the fence.
My head was too big.
I remember my mom calling my haircut a “pageboy.”
Our neighbor on one side had horses and I fed them sugar cubes through that chain link fence.
I am happy.