Self portrait with carp. In times of distess, or even just aimlessness, I head to the local nursery. Lately, in the gradual, curious return of everyday life in the post-Prop 8 limbo, I find myself there a lot. Â The other day I brought along the boy child, after having
It’s time for Grampy’s annual lengthy holiday sojourn, which means first-rate Shakespearean actorly delivery on all children’s books. Fun for the kids, nerve-wracking for the parents, since we have to follow this act. Above, he reads Mama’s favorite childhood book to Mama’s favorite son.