williamklosterman.blogspot.com
The Essays of W.J. Klosterman: Remembering Grandma
http://williamklosterman.blogspot.com/2009/03/moms-slippers.html
Sunday, March 22, 2009. Photography by Kari Hughes Wint - March 20, 2009. 169; 2014 WJ Klosterman. Awesome Inc. template. Powered by Blogger.
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The Essays of W.J. Klosterman: A Poem
http://williamklosterman.blogspot.com/2009/03/a-poem.html
Sunday, March 22, 2009. The Ones He Left Behind. His wife received a telegram on that Monday afternoon. 8220;Your husband was killed in action, you’ll get a letter soon.”. Now her heart was saddened for she saw the years ahead. She’d have to spend them all alone ‘cause now her husband’s dead. His little daughter Betty sure had a super dad,. But she’s too young to realize the meaning to be sad. She’ll soon grow up and forget the things she used to do,. Written in 1945 by Doris (Coble) Klosterman.
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The Essays of W.J. Klosterman: A Time Capsule
http://williamklosterman.blogspot.com/2009/12/a-time-capsule.html
Thursday, December 31, 2009. I took a peek at the past the other day and caught a glimpse of the future. While going through boxes of Christmas ornaments, I noticed a gold tin can sitting in the corner of one of the boxes with a tag that said, “Do not open until January 1, 2010.”. On the next page we asked them to look into the future and asked them questions about what they thought they would be doing and where they would be in ten years. It was also the year of a little thing called Y2K. Why indeed?
rivieragolfcourse.blogspot.com
Riviera Golf Club: The Death of Riviera
http://rivieragolfcourse.blogspot.com/2015/12/blog-post.html
The Death of Riviera. 169; 2016 W.J. Klosterman. Awesome Inc. theme. Theme images by moorsky.
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The Essays of W.J. Klosterman: The Sounds of Summer
http://williamklosterman.blogspot.com/2015/06/the-sounds-of-summer_25.html
Thursday, June 25, 2015. The Sounds of Summer. It was one of those first warm Saturdays when spring slowly works its way into summer. The world heads outdoors, and the sounds ensue. The landscape behind our house — covered in a morning mist — provided the perfect vista for enjoying birds that had seemingly been quiet for months. These sounds of summer are the very ones that central Ohioans anticipate during the endless months of winter. As the sounds grew closer, they would become more familiar. With rea...
williamklosterman.blogspot.com
The Essays of W.J. Klosterman: Holiday Greetings 2009
http://williamklosterman.blogspot.com/2009/12/holiday-greetings-2009.html
Friday, December 25, 2009. Turning The Page. The Year Passes.A Decade Closes. It’s difficult to capture a moment in time. As a photographer, I know when the shutter opens for that split second, it merely captures the visual imagery reflected in its mirror. Limited to its one sensory interpretation, the camera is destined to ignore the sounds, the smells, the touch of what’s embraced in the viewfinder. There are some moments that will quickly fade away.
williamklosterman.blogspot.com
The Essays of W.J. Klosterman: Tat 2 U
http://williamklosterman.blogspot.com/2008/09/tat-2-u.html
Saturday, September 20, 2008. I turned 56 years old this year, thereby surpassing the age that my father was when he died. To commemorate the occasion, I went and did something that I've wanted to do for a very long time. I got a tattoo. The reason it took so long was because I didn't know what I wanted. I wanted one that represented how I felt, so I designed one myself. The colors represent the rainbow. The two figures represent the continual and elusive pursuit of our dreams.
williamklosterman.blogspot.com
The Essays of W.J. Klosterman: Holiday Greetings 2014
http://williamklosterman.blogspot.com/2015/02/holiday-greetings-2014.html
Wednesday, February 25, 2015. 169; 2014 WJ Klosterman. Awesome Inc. template. Powered by Blogger.
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The Essays of W.J. Klosterman: Thanksgiving 2009
http://williamklosterman.blogspot.com/2009/11/thanksgiving-2009.html
Thursday, November 26, 2009. This year, as we sit down to give thanks, it is easy to notice we are fewer in number. Whether by distance.or by time, we make note of the empty chairs. But we feel the presence of those we love. Let our memories be our nourishment. Let our thirst be quenched by those around us. Let the hope of days to come be our anthem of thanks. 169; 2014 WJ Klosterman. Awesome Inc. template. Powered by Blogger.
