My Mother's Rock

In the post "The house of my Pilgrimage", I really meant to include a wonderful picture of my neice's husband, Danny, and Mom while they sat talking on her rock.  Pictures like this always make me wonder what they were talking about.  She may have been telling Danny how they "used to hay this whole field", the front face of which is entirely trees now; or she might have been speaking of how she would run down through the lower gate, then through the field toward their farm, jumping over the bushes as she went.   Whatever it was, Danny was no doubt listening, lovingly to Grammy's reflections.

I hope today is filled with good memories for you all.