I suppose it's going to be Clean the Front Windows Day fairly soon, too.

If you look closer, it's easy to trace...

Her hair, sun-kissed--sometimes me-kissed--brown and blonde, with glints of gold in the setting sun. When I lean in to kiss the top of her head, she smells nice--or is it that nice smells like her? She frets about graying now and then, but to my eyes she's perfect, more so today than at sixteen, when we were young together. Some day we'll be old together, but together still, and when the sun sets from time to time it'll kiss her hair again, and so will I.

Children acting like adults is cute and another huge photographic cliche. What strikes me about this picture is not the phone--well, not just the phone--but her gesture and expression and body language. She fits right in with her mom and aunt.

I'm not sure Jason really understands basketball. Then again, neither do I.

More and more when I look at my son--and remember being a child, myself--I think that it may be the natural state of boys to be, in their hearts, warriors.

I don't imagine it was all that long ago that fresh blueberries in February would have been unusual. I can't even get Jason to understand that not all television is on-demand, though, so I guess I'll just have to let this one go.

Whenever it rains I start trying to be Saul Leiter. Unsurprisingly--my not being Saul Leiter and all--the results don't measure up, but in any event they're sometimes cute.

When I was a kid I used to like taking things apart. Toys, ballpoint pens, remote controls, my mom's car stereo--you know, whatever came to hand. So far Jason doesn't seem to have inherited this trait, except when it comes to Lego constructions that his parents or grandparents put together for him.

On Saturday when we were hanging out in the garage, I asked Jason if I could take his picture. He said yes, and then got up and did this. I don't recall ever asking him to stand like that in his life.

It's funny how variable his reaction to being photographed is. When he's not in the mood, he hides or scowls. But when he's on, he's on.