Rode by earlier this day and the trees were brilliantly lit in the sun. Came by later and still liked the image.
© Words and Picture Dan DeMarle 2016
Rode by earlier this day and the trees were brilliantly lit in the sun. Came by later and still liked the image.
© Words and Picture Dan DeMarle 2016
11/13/16
© words and pictures Daniel DeMarle 2016
© Words and Picture Dan DeMarle 2016
© Words and Picture Dan DeMarle 2016
There is so much fascinating Rochester History that is often hidden in plain site.
© words and pictures Daniel DeMarle 2016
10/30/16
© Photo Dan DeMarle 2016
10/24/16
© Pictures Daniel DeMarle 2016
© Words and Picture Dan DeMarle 2016
My sisters were terrible drivers. They were old enough to drive, I was not, I was in my early teens. Since there were a number of us in the house at various times there were multiple cars. None of these were junkers but some were second hand, often they were passed down from one sibling to another. Now generally my older sisters were not terrible drivers. They however, had a thing about icy roads, and I remember one Spring with just a wet road. Invariably it seemed like once a year during those years, one or the other would be driving with friends, and end up in a ditch. Now my parents were not supposed to know that this had happened. But there was the car in a ditch. Luckily my older sisters typically had older boy friends, so they usually took the job of pushing these various cars out of ditches. However it would invariably come to their needing their little brothers’ arms, and backs. Somehow they would get home, and round us up with pleas or bargains. We would then slip out of the house undetected or before Mom and Dad got home. Another of the many cars would drive us up. Next we would be standing in a ditch, pushing a car out of a ditch, some deeper than others, while my older sisters, appeared to help push. The VW Bug was the easiest to push out. I don’t remember any serious body damage to the cars, while except for once. That was however how those older boyfriends could come in handy to do light car repair, or to at the very least pull out dents. We would then be brought home, before Mom and Dad could find out. Invariably we would be sworn to secrecy. We actually kept those secrets. We all had secrets, some big and some small. It was all for one … and one for all. Since then I have lost count of the number of cars I have pushed from ditches, and snow banks. I hope I have taught my children to do the same. At times however I remember those secret rescue missions and smile.
© words by Dan DeMarle 2016