Good morning all, a little cool, rainy and breezy, another typical March winter day in Iowa. Here I sit in studio looking towards the window watching for signs of Spring like the first flock of "snowbirds" to return from the southern states. I've already noticed a drop in the number of pity photo's they've been sending. This morning I was thinking how many times we were "Huck Finned" when we were growing up, you know, those things that looked like fun but were actually work. Adults that constantly told you, you were to little to do. Here's a few off the top of my head: Running the clothes through the wringer before you hung them outside, if we couldn't reach the clothes line (used before dryers) handing Mom the clothes pins. Washing the car, loved playing with the hose. Cutting the grass, especially when we got a gassoleene powered mower, it was like walking behind a motorcycle. Helping paint under the supervision of our art director fathers if outside and our art critic mothers inside. Shoveling snow because snow was just plain fun. Eventually we learned this wasn't fun and we'd been hoodwinked into doing "Chores" which later turned into our first source of income (allowance) after we lost all of our baby teeth. What clever and devious creatures were those we called "Parents".