I think I may have three different versions of Swiss Army Knives hidden somewhere in the hoard, but none of them are quite as vintage as the one pictured above. LOL.
Thanks for sharing that one!!!
I think I may have three different versions of Swiss Army Knives hidden somewhere in the hoard, but none of them are quite as vintage as the one pictured above. LOL.
One of the original "Happy Faces" that appears to have enjoyed a rather long and obviously hard life! He (or she, as the case may be) looks tired.
Beach Bunnies under glass...now that is effective social distancing!
One of the original "Happy Faces" that appears to have enjoyed a rather long and obviously hard life! He (or she, as the case may be) looks tired.![]()
LOL. Paraphrasing Roy Scheider's character in the movie Jaws, "We're going to need a bigger can of RaidWasp and Hornet Spray!"What the hell is that?![]()
Let's see now....the young man with his head on the pillow is thinking deep thoughts about great adventures yet to be experienced, while his best friend rests his concerned head on the gentleman;s blanket and his most prized possessions; a baseball, his YO-yo, his Colonel Littleton Possibles bag and not surprisingly, a few loose marbles rest on the window sill above his head. Life is good...contemplative, but good!
A beautiful image that says so much.Let's see now....the young man with his head on the pillow is thinking deep thoughts about great adventures yet to be experienced, while his best friend rests his concerned head on the gentleman;s blanket and his most prized possessions; a baseball, his YO-yo, his Colonel Littleton Possibles bag and not surprisingly, a few loose marbles rest on the window sill above his head. Life is good...contemplative, but good!![]()
Reading your post above, I suspect your 4th grade teacher, Mrs Burns, would have been one of my heros...the type from whom we could learn so much!Maybe the most photographed lighthouse in all of America...
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Comissioned by George Washington. My 4th grade teacher's husband was the keeper and one spring day Mrs. Burns took nine-year old me and the other dozen kids in my class up into the ever-winding iron staircase to the tippy-top of that thing. Not for the squeamish, of which I was. And may be still.