My husband does not take pictures of everything like I do. As much as I try to get him to get into this blog thing, he just doesn’t seem to want to.
At one point in time, I thought I had him talked into at least writing a post or two every now and then, but that fantasy didn’t last long. I have told him that he has the best job to take pictures; next month he’s traveling to Canada, San Marcos and Los Angeles. What better job to take pictures of everything? I know that if I had that job, my blog would be twenty times more interesting. But alas, my job is full of trucking and telephone calls, and not fun traveling, so I have to rely on him to take pictures of things.
So during our trip to Philly, he did happen to snap a few…
That last picture is from a bar that I’m pretty sure had the name rooster in it. And if you’ve seen my kitchen, you know I looooove roosters. I’m kinda mad that guy’s jacket was in the way; or I’m mad that I was too lazy to get up and take a picture around it. Either, way, you can sort of tell that it’s a rooster.
I have threatened B’s life if he doesn’t take any good pictures while in California. Because I’m sure that I won’t be headed there any time soon.
I do love my crazy little B.