Delusional skeptic, reveling in a multiple-personality disorder. Alternating between a 21st-century blogger, a 3rd-century BC Carthagenian general, a 5th-century BC druid, a 23rd-century BC Beaker-people trader, a 20th-century Estonian freedom-fighter, a time-traveler, and a sheepdog in Wyoming.
Mom's note says this is me. And I'm sure that's Granny Sawyer holding me. So this is 1951. The renovating from the previous pic must be done by now. Its strange seeing the backyard without those hexagon-shaped cement blocks Dad laid down as a patio.
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