No cupboard doors in my kitchen. They have been sanded and are all in the garage waiting for beautification.
Brilliant fall leaves on every street. I miss my father the most during this time of year. He, my brothers and the dogs would go hunting. They'd leave before light and come back at dusk. The dogs acting crazy excited in the morning and falling exhausted from the back of the station wagon at the end of the day. While I never hunted with them, no stomach for it, they brought back the smell of the cold fall days and the wilderness places only they knew about. My father loved the Adirondack Mountains and retreated there yearly to trout fish, back in the woods with no phone and no electricity. My brothers scattered his ashes in his favorite trout stream.
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