Fife, Clouseau, Lestrade, Hodge

In one of my fantasy lives I wanted to be a detective. I may have been a great one. Then of course, there's a good chance I would have turned out to be a bumbling idiot. I have certainly missed plenty of important clues and hints over the years.

However, one subtle clue I picked up on years ago has proven to be true.

It was the second year we went on vacation to the coast. The kids were younger, much younger. We had purchased a disposable camera for each of the kids.

It happened slowly at first. Rochelle used up her film taking weird pictures of random stuff. And, since her sisters were not using their cameras, she bartered, cajoled, purloined, or somehow managed to get the cameras from them as well.

So, while I was being diligent to keep my fingers out of my pictures and exactly centering the subjects of my photos, she took pictures of crazy stuff or no stuff at all. The places she climbed and the contortions she managed to twist into for a single picture made everyone doubt her sanity.

When at long last we returned home to Minnesota, Rochelle entered a bunch of her photos into the county fair. When she carried an armload of ribbons out of the fair with her pictures, I had a premonition!

Today, over a dozen years later, she opens the doors, metaphorically speaking, to her new business. You guessed it, she sells trombones!

Just kidding, of course.

Her new business is called Honeycomb Galleria. Naturally, it is her amazing collections of photographs presented in unique and creative ways. Check it out. Buy something and love it. That's what we artists want you to do, but we don't know how to ask nicely.