Today's post is called "the author cleans out her desk".

It's my blog, and I'll waste time if I want to!

Yesterday I spent most of the day putting together a children's book for one of the grandkids: all about sisters (I wanted to do this in April, wrote the text, hated it, forgot about it, rediscovered it, tuned it up, printed it out, then set out trying to find photos, a mix of Google images and real family photos).

Actually, this took several days, and I was limp as a dishrag, my brain like a blown fuse, but set it aside? Not I!

I one day discovered I had saved about a billion photos which I never looked at, so I deleted them all. This went along with a general purge of all my overloaded files. Now I'm discovering I lost some favorite images,  but some few remain, and I'd like to share them with you now (or not, if you don't like sentiment/whimsy).

Baby as space alien? Or running from the CIA.

Just good to look at, evoking. . . what?

Not so far off the truth. The little tykes scare (and humble) me.

You know those awful paintings of waifs with a single tear? Yet, what is it about this one?

This one looks so much like Erica, it scares me.

Two of the grandcats, not actual photos, but capturing their personalities, one naughty (took a chunk out of my hand the one time I tried to pet him), one nice (and fat).

These look exactly like the stairs at my son's house.

                                                    Was my back ever this cute?

Under the sea! (How I wish she'd been around when I was four.)

AND. . . the number one sentimental picture for June 11 IS. . .

Little blonde angel girls in gauzy dresses, crowned with flowers. . .

Well, it is June.