Monday, September 12, 2011

So I was watching...

the "1972 Rolling Stones American Tour"on TV the other night. While I watched
Sir Mick strutting around the stage in all his Jaggerness, I found myself lost in my own past. Back in 1972
Jerry was 27 and  I was 25. Our little family of five fit very nicely in the huge house on Seventh Avenue we had purchased two years before. Right from the beginning there were extra people in the house...I guess you could call them guests. Grampas and grammas, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, even a few friends...they just kept coming. 

We all loved when Susan, Sam and all four, five or six kids would come for a few days and maybe more if they got snowed in.
Or when Gary, Sue and the boys called and said they were comming for the afternoon, and stayed for was always spaghetti.

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