Walking around, looking at the campsite.
How dad is crazy: one of the many ways.
My big brother, Alex, eating watermelon.
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Hi. My name is Emerson. My parents are both nuts. There is no telling why Dad liked my name; Mom, at least, named me Emerson for a reason. She named me after her favorite theological poet who cared more about all of Nature itself than any particular religion's view of it. I guess it could have been worse. They could have named me Ralph or, God forbid, Waldo! Well back to the crib before they find out I wrote this.
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