Author Archives: Marc

Abe, Last week your Aunt Betty gave you a bunch of tall sticks and some twine. We added a sheet and some clothes pins and you had your first tipi. Shortly after it was done, you had toys and favorite … Continue reading →

Abe, The ominous chug-a-chug-a of my old diesel Benz is bound to wake you, rumbling as it does, just below your bedroom window. But you always wake happy. Many days, the last thing I see before I back out of … Continue reading →

Friends in the UK sent us this hat of the Arsenal football club. You point and say “wheel” when you look at the cannon.

Abraham, You and your Mom visited Rhode Island just after the fourth of July. Your Dad got around to posting it on the blog in the middle of August. These are pictures sent by Carol of your visit with your … Continue reading →

Abraham, Midnight. You are sleepless. Done crying now, you are still too alert for the middle of the night. I sing you songs. I tell you to think about something else. We recall a recent trip to Atlanta. We talk … Continue reading →

Abraham, You are walking now. Your Mom and I stand at opposite ends of the kitchen and encourage you to walk-trundle-tumble between us, back and forth. Every trip you make across that floor aches in me. How long I have … Continue reading →

Abraham, Today, while your Mom was out, you and I walked the lake. We stalked ducks, startled squirrels and and studied the big excavators they have there, churning over the mud to fix a water line. Back home, we hung … Continue reading →

Abe, I'm sorry that I do not put more here for you as the days rocket past. Living doesn't leave much time for reporting on living. These days you are obsessed with trucks and heavy equipment of all sorts, particularly … Continue reading →