Japanese Sandman

I love this old song.  It is so whimsical and lovely.  It became popular in the early 1920's, when my father was a tiny baby.  I can picture him lying in his crib in that old house in Saratoga Springs on 84 White Street.  Perhaps it is summer, and in the front bedroom where he is napping, the towering, graceful elm trees, long gone now, shade the house.  The breeze lightly wafts the sheer white curtains as they flirt ever nearer to the sleeping baby's skin.

I imagine that close by, the radio is playing this song, as my grandmother goes about her chores or naps next to my father.

I took this picture earlier this evening.  I thought the candlelight would add some magic to the old tin decorated with Asian scenes from long ago.  Listen to the song and imagine a baby many years ago asleep on a lazy summer afternoon.