The night I was scanning these negatives, my brother, a childhood friend of ours, and three dear friends who grew up in the heart of Atlanta were sitting around the dining room table while I worked.
Our city friends we regaling us with the wild tales of a youth spent on Ponce de Leon Ave. My brother, Tad and our hometown sweetheart, Tiff, looked at each other and a little wide-eye we claimed, "Oh, we'd never raise our kids in the city."
Meanwhile, Andrea, one of the urbanites is looking over my shoulder at the pictures we took before dinner on Christmas day and says, "Yeah, I won't be raising my kids in the country."
We all have our own comfort levels of weird. Dead birds, tying up the woods, and herding cattle into frame is just another day, but it's not for everyone.
