"Home"

There are many sights and sounds of my "Home" where I grew up, including the sound of football games, wind in palm trees, the feeling of concrete beneath my feet as I walk shamelessly down the road and around the block barefoot, the sound of the multitude of children playing in P.E. around the corner.  Also, there are the familiar habits and ways of life that the people who have been living in the home I grew up in for the past 30 years:  The sound of the iron at about 2:30 as father irons his blue shirt, the soaking of coffee mugs with two inches of hardened sugar because "someone" didn't stir it properly, the row of cheap hair conditioners on the shower window and the fact that I always look for shampoo and only find many half-empty bottles of conditioner, or now that my sister wants black hair for some reason, I find bottles of weird hair-dye stuff, that you shouldn't be using to wash your hair, and probably not to dye your hair either.  Anyway, this is the home I grew up in.  Where I took my first steps, and now my little guy (at the bottom) has had the opportunity to visit this beautiful, wonderful place I call "Home."  P.S.  My mother makes it a beautiful place, lovely to take pictures of.