The past always finds a way to creep back into your present. Our night began with chats about how to teach poetry to my 8th graders this week. This chat lead us on a treasure hunt for Baldo’s blue notebook, a project containing poetry he wrote as a young lad, so off to his parents’ house we went. Alas the booty was found and the reminiscing began. Amid the scrapbooks and old handmade birthday cards from ex-girlfriends (gag-why do we still have that stuff?), we found some of Baldo’s old work from photo class.
Hope you enjoy them as much as I did.


Can anyone say Milwaukee mudslide?


Riddle me this...why I am I so attracted to him in this picture?