So we're living in the third floor of my mom's house, right now: a place that hasn't actually been cleaned out since the late 60's or early 70's. In order to have space to work in, we're slowly going through the random Stuff piled around.
Some of it's ... a little odd.
(
Wandering through other people's memories. )
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"Original" Civil War bullets were (and still are) fairly easy to come by.
Family history is always fascinated me and my father...something more than just the dates of births, deaths and marriages. Stories of our family members often help us to understand our family's distinct identity.
Maybe it's time for a trip to Cananda?
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