My mother sitting there on the left side of the fire with her right leg touching the ground and me 3,4,10 years old, with my legs crossed underneath me on the right side, on a hot summer evening. Mom with a couple of switch sticks off a tree branch, that my father peeled the bark off of with his pocket knife, now over the fire with fat hot dogs hanging on them. My brother finding all kinds of things to throw on the fire to watch them burn. This old fireplace where we visited so often, won't ever let me forget my mother or my innocense. It's gift to me.

I took this photo in 2003, I was so glad it was still there, even though it was missing a few bricks, sorta like me I guess. Hummph, it brought tears to my eyes to see it again.