She is me. And, I am her.

Thanksgiving time always makes me nostalgic. So . . . . I've decided to post over the next several weeks about things from my childhood. My purpose in starting this blog in the first place was to have a record of our lives. The day-to-day stuff so that my daughters can look back at it and remember things they may have forgotten. Why my childhood? I don't know, really. I always love hearing about my mother's childhood. I'm hoping that someday my girls will want to know a bit about mine. (hmmmm. Fingers tapping as I'm thinking) Perhaps I'll add posts about my mother's childhood. Perhaps about my mother-in-law's childhood too.




I don't know for sure how old I was in this photo. Maybe 4 or 5. I'm digging the red tights and brown leather shoes. And who knew I ever had such straight, blonde hair? I wonder if my mother made this dress for me. She did that sometimes.

I look like my father in this photo.

Hmm. As I study this photo, I notice how I'm playing with my fingers. Boo does the exact same thing. Hmmmm. . .

-dana