Tag: photography

Morgan Estate Temecula, California

Morgan Estate - The Morgan family has lived in this home since 2002, and five years ago they spruced up the place for their daughter's wedding. It went so well that they opened the estate for weddings of patrons that can afford the ante. Since then, it's become a popular place to get hitched.
Morgan Estate – The Morgan family has lived in this home since 2002, and five years ago, they spruced up the place for their daughter’s wedding. It went so well that they opened the estate for weddings of patrons that could afford the ante. Since then, it’s become a popular place for couples to get hitched.

When Queen Anne and I embark on photo shoots requiring an overnight stay, we try to indulge in a fancy dinner to express our mutual appreciation. While we rely on websites such as Trip Advisor for dining recommendations, we’ve noticed that they often suggest generic options like burgers, pizzas, or Mexican food, neglecting many exceptional dining spots in the region, especially those nestled within wineries.

These winery restaurants may be pricey but they offer a unique dining experience. The chefs here are culinary maestros, creating gastronomic masterpieces with each dish. They provide upscale and luxurious options for special occasions and are an essential stop for wine lovers. Amongst the many wineries in Temecula, Leoness Cellars stands out as a must-visit spot.

Leoness Cellars’ tasting room is like an adult Disneyland, with more wine and fewer screaming children. As soon as you arrive, you’ll be greeted by the vineyard equivalent of a fairytale castle, except there’s a sparkling fountain instead of a moat. And instead of knights in shining armor, a team of friendly wine experts is ready to guide you through the tasting experience.

Its floor-to-ceiling windows offer breathtaking views of the vineyards. They have an extensive selection of wines to suit any palate, from rich and bold reds to crisp and refreshing whites. And if you’re feeling intimidated by the complex world of wine, their friendly wine experts are on hand to guide you through the tasting experience of a lifetime. The tasting room is more like a sophisticated wine cave, with rustic wooden tables and cozy leather chairs, perfect for relaxing while you savor the unique flavors.

One of the most exceptional features of Leoness Cellars is the food pairing experience. It’s an absolute match made in culinary heaven – the wines are expertly paired with small bites, leaving your taste buds in pure bliss. The experience is so indulgent that you might even be tempted to make out with your glass of wine (but please don’t; that’s weird). During our visit, Queen Anne and I paid $25.00 to share a flight of 6, and we savored the 2021 Viognier, the 2018 Meritage, and the 2018 Syrah—my favorite. We did notice that the pouring sizes, in general, are getting skimpier. To put it in perspective, imagine getting your favorite wine glass from the cupboard and spitting into it a couple of times; that should give you an idea of the serving size. We realized we were being pathetic when our hostess had to stop us from elbowing each other to get to the glass first.

After the tasting, we went to the restaurant patio for lunch. We ordered full glasses of the wines that impressed us, savoring each sip and bite while basking in the warm sun. The day couldn’t get any better with full bellies, fine wine, and a picturesque view—except for maybe a nap.

I hope that this week’s photo, titled Morgan Estate, captures the natural beauty and sophistication of Temecula’s wine country. The lush wine groves in the foreground and the majestic Santa Ana Mountains in the background create a stunning backdrop for the photo’s focal point – the Morgan Estate. I took this photo from the restaurant patio during lunch when I couldn’t resist snapping a shot of this breathtaking view. It’s the kind of view that makes you want to grab a glass of wine and bask in the tranquility of the surroundings.

The Morgan Estate is a popular wedding venue in the area, and it’s easy to see why. The estate’s sophisticated elegance perfectly complements the region’s natural beauty, making it the ideal spot for brides to slap on that ball-and-chain. From the vantage point of the restaurant patio, you can appreciate the estate’s grandeur beneath the majesty of the Santa Ana Mountains. I tried to encapsulate the region’s allure in the photo- from the vineyards’ rolling hills to the estate’s sophisticated charm. I hope my photo encourages you to get off your couch and plan a trip to Temecula to enjoy your slice of La Vita.

Leoness Tractor - The cellar's owners drug this old tractor out from the barn as yard-art.
Leoness Tractor – The owners of the cellar drug this old tractor from the barn as yard art.

You can see a larger version of Morgan Estate on its web page by clicking here. Next week—after I dry out—we’ll begin April’s series of show-and-tell. Come back then and see where the road takes us.

Till next time
jw

BTW:

Visiting wineries and sampling their offerings has brought us joy over the years. While putting together this month’s project, we’ve considered the idea of writing reviews for each of the farms that we visited. However, with over 40 cellars open for tasting in Temecula alone, we couldn’t visit them all without having my liver shrivel and fall out. During this trip, we paced ourselves and saw a couple of places in the morning, had lunch, and then stopped at another two in the afternoon. We found that the wine flavors began to run together if we visited more than that.

I’m considering an idea for a book that covers all the regions we’ve visited. However, putting together a book covering five vineyards in each of the 15 California wine regions with five pages of photos and text would be monumental. The book would be over 300 pages long. Instead, I’m considering breaking the task into bite-sized pieces and publishing them in a magazine format, similar to my Utah State Route 12 magazine. Each publication would have about 50 pages, making them more affordable than hardcover books. I would publish three or four per year, leaving me time for other assignments.

I’m interested in hearing your thoughts. Would you like to see a project like this? Or would you prefer that I stick to pretty landscapes and roadside relics and never talk about wine again? Please share your comments below, and while you’re there, click on the “Like” button if you enjoyed this post. Don’t worry; no one will know you did it.

Vineyards in the Afternoon Sun Temecula, California

Vineyards in the Afternoon Sun
Vineyards in the Afternoon Sun – On a clear January afternoon, the sun adds a warm glow to a Temecula Vineyard.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve shown you pictures of Riverside County’s idyllic countryside and recounted the story of my last visit and how much things have changed. So, I hear you asking me, “You and Queen Anne drove four hours to Temecula for wine tasting. Get on with it.” OK. Put the gun down; I surrender. As you can see, this week’s photo—called Vineyards in the Afternoon Sun—is finally a vineyard shot, so let’s talk about the wine and why they can produce fine wines in the otherwise hot and dry Southern California Desert.

Temecula Wine Country in Southern California covers over 33,000 acres and boasts over 40 wineries producing world-renowned wines. The region’s ideal grape-growing conditions are due to its Mediterranean climate, granite-rich soil, and unique geography shaped by the San Jacinto Fault Zone and the Santa Ana Mountains. The area’s rich history dates back to the indigenous Pechanga Band of Luiseño Indians, the first to plant grapevines and make wine in the region.

The Santa Ana and San Jacinto Mountains—the snow-covered mountain in last week’s shot—offer stunning natural scenery and are popular destinations for outdoor recreation; they were formed due to tectonic activity associated with the San Andreas Fault system. Despite being part of the same geological formation, they have distinct differences in their ecology and climate. Today, both mountain ranges are home to a diverse array of plant and animal life, making them an essential part of Southern California’s ecology.

Temecula, Southern California’s wine-growing region, owes its distinct wine flavors to its terroir, a combination of soil, climate, and topography. The region’s decomposed granite and clay loam soil provides the ideal conditions for grape growing, while the warm weather and ample sunshine result in rich, full-bodied red wines and fruity white wines. The region’s topography creates a range of microclimates that influence grape flavor, with vines planted on steep slopes producing concentrated flavors and those grown in the valley producing fruit-forward wines. Sustainable farming practices and high elevation contribute to healthier grapes and complex flavors.

Temecula’s wine country has a rich history, with Spanish missionaries planting the first grapevines in the late 1700s. However, it was in the mid-1960s that the modern wine industry began to take shape. Today, Temecula is a bustling tourist destination, attracting visitors from all over the world who come to taste the region’s award-winning wines and soak up the stunning scenery. Visitors can also explore the region’s rich cultural heritage and enjoy countless opportunities to taste some of the region’s finest wines.

In January, Queen Anne and I had the pleasure of embarking on a three-day adventure in Temecula Wine Country, and it was an absolute blast! The rolling hills, endless vineyards, and charming tasting rooms with picturesque outdoor patios immediately struck us. From the moment we arrived, we were swept up in a boozy frenzy that we won’t forget. Despite increasing anties, we indulged in incredible wines, taking in stunning views of the valley and experiencing the utmost charm of each unique tasting room we visited. We highly recommend this unforgettable experience, but a word of caution: after a glass or five, be sure not to drive. I strongly encourage you to visit this stunning region and toast its past and future success. But remember to snap some photos for your social media feeds – after all if you don’t post about it, did it occur?

Flower Barrels - A vintner has repurposed old wine barrels as flower pots along the patio.
Flower Barrels – A vintner has repurposed old wine barrels as flower pots along the patio.

As usual, you can see a larger version of Vineyards in the Afternoon Sun on its web page by clicking here. Next week’s chat gets even more specific when we review the last tasting room on our tour. You won’t want to miss it.

Till next time

jw

 

Shell Station Lowell Arizona

Shell Station - A small Shell gas station is located at the north end of Erie Street in Lowell, Arizona.
Shell Station – A small Shell gas station is located at the north end of Erie Street in Lowell, Arizona. The 51 Chevy parked out front was a nice touch. The pumps are priced at 41 cents per gallon if you’re interested.

Maybe I’m doing this wrong, but I’m a photographer first and a storyteller second. When I’m out taking pictures in the field, I don’t have a story in mind that I have to illustrate. My stories come after I’m at my desk trying to explain why I bothered to snap the shutter. Some weeks I struggle to put together two pages of sensible words; other times, my thoughts fly at my keyboard, and my fingers seem to move barely.

When Queen Anne and I happened upon Lowell and made our unplanned stop, I hopped out of the car and started snapping pictures down one side of Erie Street and up the other. When I returned home and processed the images, it was like there was a story in me begging to be told—and these were the perfect pictures to hang them. Like the rest of February, this week’s featured image, Shell Station—has a built-in untold story about my first real job.

I never got an allowance when I was in high school. My dad paid me to work at his drapery factory after school and on weekends. It should have been the perfect arrangement because I was mostly alone. I hated it because it was repetitive work, and it had nothing to do with cars or girls—besides, dad always thought I was goofing off—which I was.

The summer of my graduation, Dave—a good friend of mine—asked if I’d be interested in working evenings at his brother’s gas station. George—the owner—was short a person and needed someone dependable. I went for an interview, and George wanted me to start that very Saturday so that he could learn-me-up on how to pump gas. On Saturday, I was still in bed when the phone rang, and I vaguely remember driving to Van Nuys half dressed.

George’s station was an Atlantic-Richfield (ARCO now) on the northeast corner of Van Nuys and Magnolia Boulevards. It was about three times the size of the Shell Station in this week’s picture. He had three gas islands and two service bays, open 24 hours daily. My salary was only 1.65/hr, but because it was a service station, we got a commission on everything but gas. That’s why we were so happy to wash your windows (blades), check your oil (air filter), and your tire pressure (if you sold a set of tires, you were golden). Although it was common then, we didn’t pressure the customers to buy anything—we’d show them the evidence and let them decide. It worked for me, and I could make an extra $5.00 weekly.

There was another significant aspect of George’s station. I don’t know if you did this in your part of the country when you were a teenager, but cruising was extensive on the west coast. Every Friday night, pimpled face adolescents from across the valley would pile into shiny cars and drive up and down Van Nuys Boulevard. The guys paired up in someone’s hot rod, and the girls rode around in daddy’s T-Bird. Our traffic pattern started in Panorama City, south through Bob’s Big Boy, a turn around at Magnolia, and drove back to the beginning. There wasn’t any point to it other than to see and be seen (and it annoyed older people). If you need an example, run to Blockbuster Video and check out the movie American Graffiti—that was us.

Our station was at the loop’s south end (less than a mile from Bob’s), and we’d have more traffic driving behind the gas station every Friday night than we did out front the rest of the week. Since we were convenient, the kids took advantage of our restrooms. From the horror stories I heard, I’m glad I wasn’t part of the Saturday morning crew that had to clean them.

As you’ve heard, everything shall pass, which also happened with George’s station. As property values rose in the San Fernando Valley, the gas station’s land was so expensive, Atlantic Richfield sold the land to a developer who built a high rise. George got an amicable settlement and a much smaller station in Reseda, which closed at 9:00 pm each day and didn’t open Sundays and holidays. I worked at that station until I got drafted. Besides getting my first drag racing ticket on my way home, I don’t have any interesting stories from there.

You can see a larger version of Shell Station on its Webpage by clicking here. This completes our February visit to Lowell, so we’ll move on next week. Come back and find out where the road led us—won’t you?

Till next time
jw

BTW:

Did you work at a gas station? How do you think they compare to the self-service ones we have today? Do you feel the cars get as much care as they need?

Greyhound Lowell Arizona

Greyhound - An old Scenicruiser waits for passengers outside of the bus terminal.
Greyhound – An old Scenicruiser waits for passengers outside of the bus terminal. Note the prehistoric air conditioning in the window above the dog’s head.

I have ridden my share of buses in my life. I rode in school buses, metro buses, tour buses, trams, and trolleys, but the only time I was a passenger in a Greyhound Scenicruiser—like the one seen in this week’s image (titled Greyhound)—wasn’t one of my most pleasant memories.

That ride happened in 1967. Two other recent graduates and I were in the Army and on our way for a 13-month Korea tour. We flew commercially from Fort Holabird in Baltimore to Seattle on the first part of our journey. The sun was going down as we took off, so it was late in the evening when we landed at SeaTac. As we got off the plane, a military representative greeted us. He looked at our orders and directed us to the buses waiting outside. After retrieving our duffel bags, we headed out into the damp and chilly night.

We looked around and saw a line of Greyhound Scenicruisers. To keep the engines and interior warm, they sat idling at the curb and spewed plumes of white vapor from their exhaust. They looked like steam engines at a railroad depot. As we reached the lead bus, someone ordered, “Stow your duffels in the cargo bay and get on board.” Like good PFCs, we obeyed unquestioningly. Once seated, we waited, and waited, and waited for something to happen.

In case you don’t remember, in 1967, the U.S. was in the midst of the Vietnam War. The military was going through boys like Lucy and Ethel at the chocolate factory. The Army drafted kids off the street, trained them, sent them to Fort Lewis, and put them on the next plane crossing the Pacific. The Army ran an efficient system at SeaTac. They grabbed anyone coming off an airliner in uniform and stuck them on the bus.

We sat in that dark Greyhound for hours before it filled. The door closed, and—around midnight—it started on the short drive to Fort Lewis. I don’t sleep well in moving vehicles, so I was looking forward to a warm cot and sleeping till noon. Silly me; I forgot that I was in the Army. When we got to the base, we had to be processed, which meant we stood in line filling out forms until they handed us a pillow and assigned us a bunk.

I was in a deep sleep and busy sawing my way through a pine log when someone rousted me at 03:30 (I can still remember the military time). “Get up and get dressed. You’re on KP duty this morning,” a strange voice barked in the dark. After donning my last set of clean fatigues, I fell in with a group on their way to the mess hall. I guess someone has to peel enough potatoes to feed hash browns tor a hungry Army base. That morning was the only time I had to do KP in my military career.

We finished up our kitchen duty at lunch. I was dog tired and just wanted to flop on my bunk and recover, but when I got back to the barracks, I was told to change and pack my bag again. I was moving out in an hour. This time, there was no fancy civilian bus waiting. Instead, they loaded us in the back of a duce and a half for the ride to a military air base. As the sun went down again, the Army loaded us on a Northwest 707 that the solders affectionately dubbed the Big Red Tail. We knew and counted the days until we’d board the Red Tail to come home—some of us walked on, but Honor Guards loaded too many in the plane’s cargo bay.

The Scenicruiser in this week’s shot was designed and built by General Motors and was supposed to imitate the luxury stainless steel passenger train cars of the time. GM only manufactured them between 1954 and 1956, but Greyhound used them into the 70s. The buses were supposed to offer a luxury parlor experience and had an onboard toilet (RVs from the past). The early ones were delivered with whitewall tires. Their Achilles heels were that they were too long and too tall to be driven in some states. After Greyhound retired them, they started using ordinary buses that fit within the size restrictions and had enough cargo space for 50 passengers.

Click here to see a larger version of Greyhound on its Webpage. Next week we’ll finish our stroll down Erie Street and the memories it evokes. Be sure to join us then for another tale from Lowell, Arizona.

Till next time
jw

BTW:

Last week, I threw out a challenge for my gearhead friends that know 1957 Chevrolet trivia. Interestingly, all the commenters who had the correct answer (including myself) are older than dirt. Kids these days don’t have the passion.

White Pickets and Red Bricks The Town Too Tough to Die

White Pickets and Red Bricks - A break in the cloudy sky let sun light the face of a Tombstone Apartment.
White Pickets and Red Bricks – A break in the cloudy sky let the sun light up the face of a Tombstone Apartment.

You may have noticed that history is one of my frequent photo themes, whether it’s human history, historical buildings, or the geologic origins of a mountain. I don’t know where this passion came from because I was a terrible history student in school—I could never keep my dates straight. Maybe it’s an old-person thing. Ironically, we geezers try to cram useless facts into every unused nook and cranny in our brains, only to drop dead before using any of it.

Whenever Queen Anne and I visit a place like Tombstone, we like to see all the hot spots that every tourist goes to. The gunfighters, the courthouse, the palatial bars, and we even rummage through the gift shops (ya gotta have new T-shirts). When I get home and write about my photos, digging up the background on the above subjects is relatively easy. But, as is the case with the building featured in this week’s picture, not every historical building has a bronze plaque.

When I shot the Tombstone County Courthouse featured a couple of weeks ago, I started across the street and circled the building. I snapped images as I went, but I was looking for something different—an angle no one had seen. The shot I presented was taken from the alley out back, and the wall, tower, and clouds gave me what I wanted.

When I finished my loop, I was back at the starting point—in front of a red-brick home across the street from the courthouse. This century-old home doesn’t have a written story—well, not online, it doesn’t—but I want to know more. Who was it built for? Why was it converted into apartments? Where did they get all of those bricks?

I’m a sucker for picket fences. I would never own one because they’re a pain in the ass to maintain, but I can’t pass one without getting out my camera. I took two versions of this photo; the first was when I started my courthouse walk. In that one, the sky was overcast, and the building was entirely in its shadow. When I finished my lap, the clouds had partially opened, allowing the sun to shine light onto the apartments. This pattern of light and shadow is my favorite light. Here’s why: if you combine the way the building is lit and the broken clouds in the sky, this scene will never happen exactly again. That means I captured a specific moment that can never be reproduced. If you think about it, it’s a moment of history.

I called this shot White Pickets and Red Bricks because those are the essential elements that make up this image. You can see its larger version on its Webpage by clicking here. I hope you’ll join us next week when we come back with our final Tombstone image.

Till next time
jw

BTW:

I want to note this week’s passing of David Crosby, a founding member of two bands that were part of my formative years; the Byrds and Crosby, Stills, and Nash (and subsequent derivatives). They pioneered the transformation of folk music to folk rock. Several of David’s albums in my collection get regular rotation in my listening room. Peace-out David.

Courthouse Yard The Town Too Tough to Die

Courthouse Yard - The tall brick wall surrounding the Tombstone Courthouse yard conceal the gallows within them
Courthouse Yard – The tall brick wall surrounding the Tombstone Courthouse yard conceals the gallows within them

Whenever I visit Tombstone, it takes me a while to get oriented. But when I see a town map, I understand why. Unlike most communities established in the Mormon Territory of Deseret, the streets aren’t aligned to the compass points and aren’t centered on an intersection named Central and Main. Instead, the town is 45° off the compass; there’s no Central Avenue, and Allen Street substitutes for Main Street. Given Tombstone’s distance from Salt Lake City and its rough and tumble history, I don’t suspect its citizens weren’t concerned about religions.

When I visit the “Town Too Tough to Die,” I consider the OK Corral its social and geographical heart. As I stand on the corner of 3rd Street and Allen and look the town over, I see the streets lined with one and two-story old wooden buildings. They’re either painted in bright colors or left in their natural dull brown finish. The only exception is a block southwest on 3rd Street. There you’ll see a large two-story brick building trimmed on each of its angles with white stones. On top is a cupola festooned with a widows-walk. The first time you see this pearl before the swine, you instantly know it must be important. It was—is. It’s the original Cochise County Courthouse.

It only took five years from the silver find to the OK Corral gunfight. In that brief time, the population swelled to 7,000, and robberies and lawlessness ran rampant. Wikipedia notes, “Except for the Earp–Clanton feud, which gave Tombstone an extremely bad press—from which it has no interest in recovering—citizens gladly accepted the proffered alternative.” The townspeople wanted a change. More importantly, miners had to make a two-day journey to Tucson to file a new claim. In 1881 two historical events happened; the shootout and the state legislature carved Cochise County out of Pima and made Tombstone its seat. The irony of those events and building the courthouse a block away from the Corral the next year isn’t lost on me.

By 1929 the silver played out, and Bisbee became the next boom town. The copper strike there required more men to work the mine. With a larger population, Bisbee won the county seat in an election, and the government offices moved 25 miles down the road. The old courthouse sat empty between 1931 and 1955. That’s when the local historical society took an interest in it. They began restoring and lobbying using local contributions until the Arizona legislature declared it an Arizona State Park.

In this week’s featured image, I call Courthouse Yard, I tried to capture the gingerbread and grandeur of the red-brick building, but I wanted to emphasize the wall surrounding the side yard. Inside those enclosures is where convicted murderers met justice at the gallows. The first hangings were the perpetrators of the Bisbee Massacre in 1883, while the last was the two men that killed a sheriff and deputy at the Wilson Ranch Shootout in 1899. The tall brick walls were designed to shield the gentle public from the gruesome hangings, but most of the town went inside and watched through the second-floor windows anyway. Incidentally, I like the foreboding clouds hanging above the courthouse.

You can see a larger version of Courthouse Yard on its Webpage by clicking here. I hope you’ll join us next week when we tell another thrilling tale from yesteryear in Tombstone.

Till next time
jw

BTW:

We’re planning to visit Temecula, California, wine country, in the upcoming weeks. I hope to bring home a bottle or two along with the pictures and stories we gather.

Gunfighters The Town Too Tough To Die

Gunfighters - Actors dressed in Earp costumes try to stay warm on Allen Street while they coax visitors to come see the 3:00 pm show.
Gunfighters – Actors dressed in Earp costumes try to stay warm on Allen Street while coaxing visitors to see the 3:00 pm show.

Ghost towns in Arizona are a dime a dozen. There are enough of them to fill a book. I know because I currently have five of them sitting on my shelves. The morphing of a city into a ghost town follows a familiar pattern. It starts with some loony prospector finding a valuable mineral—gold, silver, copper, diamonds, or another precious stone. News of the bonanza spreads quickly and lures a gaggle of opportunistic people. Half of them want to get rich by picking nuggets from the ground, and the rest want to pick them from someone’s pockets.

A new town springs from the ground like a children’s pop-up book. More people settled in the town and either got jobs at the mine or open shops that every mining community needed, like bars, gambling halls, and whore houses. Eventually—in a year, a decade, or a century—the gold (or whatever) pans out. The excitement of living in a mining town slowly dies, and its residents move on to the next boom town. Mother Nature reclaims the land without caretakers; all that remains is a pile of rotting wood, some foundations, and the eerie spirit of ghosts.

Of course, there are exceptions to my rule. In a handful of cases, when the mine goes bust, its residents look around and say to themselves, “This is a great place to live.” They find other sources of income. I call these places amusement communities. Examples that come to mind include Oatman, Jerome, Bisbee, Bagdad, Clifton, and Tombstone.

Of those locations, Tombstone is the odd duck. There are no gaping open pits to gawk at, historic hotels, or James Beard-worthy restaurants. I suspect that most of its visitors don’t even know about the silver mine. That’s because the silver vein wasn’t gigantic, and that’s how it got the name Goodenough Silver Mine. A gunfight between the Earps and the Clantons secured Tombstone’s historical spot. If it weren’t for that singular gang fight, Tombstone—’The town too tough to die’—would be a pile of splinters by now.

Don’t get me wrong; there is a list of exciting things to see in Tombstone. It was the Cochise County seat for a while, so there’s the old courthouse (with its gallows patio), the Crystal Palace back bar, the world’s largest dead rose bush, and the Birdcage theater should be on everyone’s checklist. Of course, if you have the time and money, you should see the show at the OK Coral, but realize that the actual gunfight was on Highway 80—behind the Coral.

I took this week’s photo on a cold, windy December afternoon. We had checked into our motel and started into town before the light faded. Standing in the middle of Allen Street (dirt, then paved until the street department poured dirt over it again—for authenticity) were four gunfighters dressed in black wearing badges. They tried to stay warm while they hawked visitors to the 3:00 pm show. I don’t know how successful they were because the streets were empty as people sheltered inside the bars. I titled this shot Gunfighters.

You can see a larger version of Gunfighters on its Webpage by clicking here. I hope you’ll join Queen Anne and me throughout January as we show some of the exciting Tombstone scenes we found.

Till next time
jw

BTW:

Queen Anne and I are working on our calendar for the year. We’re putting together a list of places we’d like to visit and this year’s book topics. If you have any requests, let us know in the comments section.

%d bloggers like this: