Samuel Tiberious Carreras, on a late afternoon patrol.
There is nothing poignant about it.
Featuring exquisite harbor views, this modest fixer-upper will be no mere dalliance for the person who wants a serious venue to entertain in style.
This picture is of Sam. Unlike her imperial majesty Xenia, Sam works for a living. He is pretty proud that he still handles the herding duties in the household with aplomb and dignity at fifteen years of age.
I carve wood; some people carve bone, soap, and artificial substances that mimic illegal Ivory. The little face in the photo above was carved from an apple by a folk artist who visited the folklife center I used to run.
There is a closed group on a social media platform to which I'm pleased to belong. Many of the members are older than I and almost all more experienced in things maritime and nautical than I could ever pretend to be.
No, matter how careful you think you are, minor errors can creep in.
Temporarily homeless, the Jones' boat was the best I could do. Spinney had promised to shift me to something more suitable ASAP. But for now, I was "boat sitting" for the Jones family, and they had allocated the dusty forward berth for the sitter.
In graduate school, my focus was on maritime communities. For anyone who has read more than one or two posts in this blog, that's no surprise.
Miss Piggy, our OR supervisor, would tell you in strong terms that it was her job to run an OR, not to cater to a technician's foibles.