Let the Vintage Games Begin

I'm not sure who is more obsessed with Scrabble tiles, me or Judy.

Maybe me.  That's my Grandmother Dunn's high school graduation pic.  I don't think she minds being under glass.

If you look in the upper left, you can see a crack in the plaster.  I kind of like it there.  It is the calling card of that freak Virginia earthquake last year.  The living room floor kind of roiled and Bruce said, "Geeze, those trucks going down Booker Street get bigger and bigger."  Twenty seconds later, my phone started ringing off the hook.  I am apparently the seismic expert of my neighborhood, which would come as a huge shock to Mr. Pacquette, my earth sciences teacher.

A little borrowing from Mr. Dickens.

I cannot remember where the door knocker came from.  She's holding a pomegranate in her hand and has a ring on her finger.  We'd call her "Thing" like in the Adam's family, but it seems sort of overly-familiar and Cousin It just seems disrespectful.