Jumping into Spring time

As far as far I know, I don't think this was a nudie beach, but Na Na didn't care that I was in the buff.

South Carolina makes me reflective.

I'm conducting a symphony of hermit crabs and seagulls.

Momma kept trying to give away this great tasting green bumpy bread to the seagulls, but I still managed to steal one and choke it down.

Boat, boat, boat, boat. My new favorite word and get out my way if I see one.

Papa and I enjoying a yummy malted drink.

This huge thing made me yell and point a bunch, and papa angry when the lady said he couldn't carry me up there.

Old colonial mansions with live oaks and spanish moss, so boring I must have passed out. Family huddle. I like giving big hugs now.

Hunting Island was a ready made jungle gym of old timbers and tidal pools.

I think I'm what you might call boat people. Grandpa Dickens will be impressed.

Early kick around sessions, part of pop's sinister plan to turn me into an English Premier League footballer.

Grandma Bullock was watching me, so my parents actually could relax for a moment.

Papa traded some manual labor for this cool used slide.

Snugglin' up on mama, trying to charm her for something...

The Dow Jones was down 33 points yesterday in heavy trading.

Chicken pox, bring it on baby!

Backyard party at rye's house, man I'm happy to not be cooped up anymore.

I'm such a big boy in papa's sweater, I think I'm growing chest hair now.

"Yo-de-lay-he-ho!"

Dig, dig, dig, pick a flower, eat a flower, dig, dig, dig

Me and ladybug, sweetly tearing up the kitchen, of course, she made me do it.

Foot painting in rice cereal, my new toe medium.

I think I'm trapped in this sweater.