Now I know what writer’s cramp is all about. I’m sitting here, late Sunday night, surrounded by thousands of pictures I’ve taken, and can’t think of a thing to write about. My self-imposed blog deadline is Monday morning at 8:00 AM and I don’t have anything blog-worthy. I see another all-nighter coming.
For a place-holder, just in case I can’t find a better picture to focus on, I inserted this collage that I gave my grandson for his birthday a few days ago. He just turned 13 (ugggh, the middle-school years) and loves baseball, so I took a few shots of his pitching motion, turned them into neon silhouettes and added them to a batting close-up taken at another game.
He’s quite a sportsman, plays everything, but baseball is his number one all-time favorite. I’m very proud of his spunk and dedication. If he had one-tenth as much size and speed that he has in moxie, he’d be a world beater. Unfortunately for him, he inherited too many of my genes so he is forever cursed with the words of my 9th grade football coach, “He may be small, but he sure is slow.”
Oh well, he does the best he can with what God gave him to work with, and for that he is a winner in my book.
Thought for the Day: Any man who thinks he can be happy and prosperous by letting the government take care of him, better take a close look at the American Indian. Henry Ford
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