Armacao dos Buzios, Brazil

When I was a girl, my dad always tried to teach me about cars.  He pointed to what this thing was and he explained how it worked.   And I remember none of what he tried to teach me.  I remember looking at his tan, scarred hands, that grime under the nails that would never come out.  I can close my eyes and smell the mix of diesel fuel and cigarette smoke. That was the smell of my dad after a long honest day's work in the shop.  The literal blue collar with his name stitched across his chest.

Want to really feel Fall? Want to breathe in crisp air and crunch leaves...

All of our photos are originals, taken by us within our daily life, morning...

Huzzah! At the Renaissance Pleasure Faire where I have cinnamon sugar stuck to my...

There is such a sense of pride, community, and patriotism as soon as you step on deck.  Guests are greeted as they arrive, and asked if they have ever served in the US Military.  If Veterans arrivals are announced across the loudspeakers of their position, rank, and service dates.