This photo was taken in '63 or '64.

The little chunky tyke would be me. I'm being held by my brother, Marshall. My father, George, is on the left and on the right is dad's Uncle Walter.

Uncle Walter tended his farm which occupied many acres right on Lake Norman. After consulting with mom, we concluded that he never did anything else BUT farm because dad often spoke of helping him in the fields as a young boy.

How I loved to visit Uncle Walter and his farm; a place that would fit perfectly in a Norman Rockwell painting. I remember the long, gravel drive that led us to his homestead far from the main road; the big wrap-around porch with rocking chairs and a swing that always invited visitors to sit; the squeeky, wooden, screen door that welcomed you into his home; the iron stove used for heat; a kitchen that always smelled of something scrumptious cooking and back porch shelves overflowing with canned fruits and vegetables.

Ducks, chickens and cows would serenade all who ventured into the yard. Gourds hung high in the sky to provide nesting places for all types of birds. These same gourds overlooked a huge garden that produced many of the most common vegetables known to man.

Uncle Walter was a simple man who lived a simple life by today's standards. He died around 1978. With his death, the farm land was sold and soon overtaken by condos and BMW's. I'm glad I can still visit this peaceful place...at least in my memory.

Around the blogosphere, there are some who have proclaimed every Tuesday to be 'Self-Portrait Tuesday'. On this day, participating bloggers will typically post a photograph from their past and give a brief explanation of the picture. So today I officially join in the fun.

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I have had a number of good friends in my lifetime but there are two that I would consider my closest friends. The first is John on the right in the photo below. Our birthdays are only 9 days apart but you wouldn't know it from looking at us because he was always so much bigger than me. His momma fed him very well!

John was a 'country' boy and I was a 'city' boy so we never attended the same public school. However, we literally grew up together in church from the time that we were bed babies. Many a Sunday, we would alternate spending the afternooon at each other's home. I always liked going to his house out in the country because his house was surrounded by woods that provided many hours of exploratory fun.

I'm not sure of our exact age in the photo but it was taken sometime between 1970 and 1975 when we were in elementary school. Those were great days. Two heterosexual friends of the same gender could put their arms around each other without shame and the word 'gay' meant 'happy'.