After reading the post from Cheri, of Quilts by Cheri, regarding her tortoise, it caused me to remember some fond memories, and too odd in that I had been going through some boxes and stuff and found this plate someone had given me and all the sea shells I had collected from the beach back in Texas just last week.
Jim and my footprints in the sand. I was born on a island, sand between my toes. As a little girl I would make my father pull over whenever we saw a turtle in the road so it wouldn't get smushed. He would pull the car over and run out and grab the turtle. Bring it home and would have it for awhile until, of course it could crawl through the fence, never to be seen again. But next time on the road, see a turtle, pull over and bring it home.