Through another's eyes

It's so strange to visit my hometown.

Happens every few years, despite the fact my parents live just 20 minutes away and my nieces actually attend the same schools where I once walked the hallways.

So much is the same, but so much is different, too. The house where I lived (in elementary school) is still there, but seems so small and close to the road. Was it always that way?

The beauty of the older Victorian homes is something I am much more able and willing to appreciate today. Margaret's old house is has been restored to its glory. Jamie's house has never looked so good. Many of the homes are now known as "painted ladies."

In fact, last year I made a special visit to photograph quite a few of the painted ladies for a book I put together for a good friend. She was completely enthralled with my hometown.

She'll enjoy it even more when we take a day to picnic by the river and watch the freighters float on by!
The Last of Sheila (Coburn)