This is turning into one cold and snowy November. Just like the ones I remember from the long ago and far away in the land of childhood, when Sunday afternoons were sent listening to stories that my Dad told us.
Most of his stories were about actual events from his childhood. We would ask to hear those stories over and over again, I am pretty sure he got tired of telling them.
As time passed each of us in turn started to add stories to the mix. Many were stories made up about pictures in the Travel Magazine our well of neighbors gave to us.
