As we go through life, we are often told 'You can't go back' or 'You can't go home'. Some times, I realize we probably wouldn't really want to. We might have trouble readjusting to the hot humid southern nights with only an oscillating fan moving the air around us while we try to sleep. . . or pumping water and heating it on a stove to take a bath. . . or wringing clothes out by hand and hanging them on a clothes line. . . or standing over a sink, washing dishes by hand. Looking back over 50 years, I realize how enjoyable it is to remember the fun parts of our past, and how many there were.

    I sometimes think, "Wouldn't it be great if we could experience some of those moments again? Wouldn't it be fantastic to once more eat a piece of Grandmoma's pecan pie . . .or whittle with a pocket knife sharpened by a favorite Uncle? . . or hold an ice cold, eight ounce bottle of Coca-Cola just above your eye to inspect the bottom to discover where it was manufactured (I can still recall the feel of that green glass in the palm of my hand) . . . or couldn't we just go down to the creek once more and jump in, jeans and all, or nothing at all?"

    The thoughts found here are recollections of my youth; things I occasionally bring to mind, when the pace gets a little too hectic or the work gets a little too technical. The occasional unfinished sentences found here stand alone with nothing else needing to be said. It, at least, to me, says it all in those few related words.

    I hope you enjoy what you read, here, and at least understand some of it. Many parts of it may mean nothing to you. It is my life, but, maybe you lived some of it, too. Perhaps you were even in some of it. If you find yourself, or someone resembling yourself, in the pages of this book, feel free to smile when you reach that part.