7 days in July.
It’s funny, ironic, what we remember. We took a trip to California mid-July, stayed for week, visiting family and friends.
We also hit our fave restaurants, drove through the old neighborhood, and checked on our old home. We lived in that tiny little house for 28 years.
My memories of California life some two years after moving to Texas had become somewhat rosey, romantic. As we drove around, it just seemed like the area looked a bit worn down.
The drought restrictions, I’m sure, had a lot to do with the overall appearance of yards we saw in our daily meanderings, but things just did not seem the same.
Heartbreaking.
Even so, I was still able to find glimpses of beauty with my camera while walking around my father-in-law’s neighborhhood…