Because I haven't blogged enough about Paul

Memorial Day. I have no thoughtful post about honoring those who fought for our country. I should, but I don't. I'll just be grateful all day long for the men and women who have lost their lives defending and serving our country.

I spent the morning in a fruitless attempt to find Paul among several dozen other marching banders. All the band parents were playing "Where's Waldo?" and mostly failing. Unless they were the parent of either a flag twirler (no hats so you can easily pick out your child's face) or the parent of the drum major (been there. :) ) and you have the benefit of looking for the one person in the whole band who doesn't look like everyone else. Even knowing that Paul was one of only three French Horn players didn't help. And I always pick the wrong side of the street to stand on--the French Horns were on the north side of the band and I was waiting with my camera on the south side of the street.

I did catch up to him eventually at Memorial Park and got a few good pictures of him in his uniform.
He seemed to be having fun.
Katie, we missed you in the band! This is the only picture I was able to get of Mr. K.
We are now off to the church picnic. I hope the lemon bars are cool enough.