The old man and the pug

There is this retired/assisted-living condo community across from my workplace. There is also a small green park on my employer's property. These lovely old folks next door like to take their little old dogs on walks through this little green park.

And they do a wonderful job of cleaning up after their pets, bless their hearts, so that when my coworkers and I want to go over there to sit in the sun and eat lunch, we don't have to deal with massive piles of dog crap everywhere.

On to the point...I always see this one tall thin old man and his pug when I walk into work in the morning. Something about the elderly man makes me curious: What is his story? Is he alone (apart from said-pug)? Where did he come from? How did he end up here?

I find myself asking the same about my family. I know some of our heritage, but where did we really come from? What is our story?

Last time I was home, I made it a point to talk to my mother and father about all of my great-aunts and uncles (as there are MANY, and many of them have passed or I don't remember), and my great-grandparents. I am convinced I am going to go back this next week and gather as much information about them as I can...a little bit of a pet-project if you will. A family tree of sorts. Who knows what kind of dirt I am going to dig up.

Countdown until my Indiana trip: 6 days.

Song of the day: "Barefoot Blue Jean Night" Jake Owen