Better than brain dribble in the rubbish bin

Anyone who really knows me has to be flabbergasted that I am writing a blog.  Some of my bestest friends in the world can tell you that they can count the number of letters I've written  to them on one or two fingers.  Longhand and I  have never been able to get along.  I start writing on paper and it comes out like a third graders rough draft and looks like it too.  (No offense meant to all the brilliant third graders out there)
Then came a little miracle.  McGregor, one of my baby brothers, told me about a book he was reading (The Artist's Way)  and even went so far as to buy a copy for me and drive it over to my house.  Everyone needs a little brother like that.  He has been like a little bulldozer on my behind most of our adult lives.  He wants me to do more, be more.  Or he just wants me to become rich and famous and leave all my money to him.   
Anyway, McGregor ended up disappointed in the book and it was very helpful to me.  Funny how that works.  It is a book about becoming more creative and McGregor is already a gifted writer.  Don't know what magic he was looking for.    The main challenge in the book  was to write everyday for thirty minutes.  Just let your mind dribble on and on about whatever.  Kind of like emptying the lint from the dryer.  (Yes, children, dryers have lint traps)    Can you imagine?   Now, I'm not going to say that I wrote everyday or even close to thirty minutes but that writers block cracked open a little.  My attempt at blogging is to keep that momentum going.  To keep my brain lint free.  So, thank you, all my dear friends and family, for  taking the time to read and/or comment. You are awesome and it makes this more fun than tossing my brain dribble  into the rubbish bin.

Change of subject.  I have a billion and two photos on my computer.  Now and then I will revisit some of my favorite oldies.    Today I ran across some  of Walker holding his brand new nephew.  I love the light in these pictures.  I love the tenderness of Walker.  I love that baby. 

Okay, this looks like a sweet picture but the truth is  Walker is saying, "why are you hitting yourself?" over and over.   Boys!!  I tell you.   Thanks again, McGregor.  Love ya.