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patterns of ink

How fruitless to be ever thinking yet never embrace a thought... to have the power to believe and believe it's all for naught. I, too, have reckoned time and truth (content to wonder if not think) in metaphors and meaning and endless patterns of ink. Perhaps a few may find their way to the world where others live, sharing not just thoughts I've gathered but those I wish to give. Tom Kapanka

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Pictures from the first few days after "Two Voices" post above...

Below is our new granddaughter's first smile on day two. There are many theories about why baby's smile. I like to think it is simply very pleasant dreams. The book is a baby version of one of Nana's favorite Dr. Seuss books.

Three generations: newborn, Nana, and Mother looking on at the hospital shortly after arrival from Michigan.

First picture with Nana and Papa. Day Two.

Papa looking on his fourth grandchild. Three days old.

On Friday, Day Four, all the cousins arrived.

This pictures were taken after the lines at "Two Voices" post were written. They were post-dated in order to appear at POI after the title post.


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