The last few days have included much I’ve photographed but have not otherwise documented. A walk from our house to Casa Mia, a cool two miles, to meet my brother and his ladyfriend for dinner while they were in town. Along the way we experienced many illustrious things. Like:
The “Lowered Expectations” bridge tour:
Right after I took this photo I looked up and was startled to see a young man on the porch with a very large knife. But he was merely seeding a melon and throwing the remainder into the yard. I thought of how much my chickens would have loved those melon scraps.
Today? Like the immortal Ren McCormack said in that wisest of films Footloose, “We sewed our asses off,” except he said “dancing”, but who are you going to trust, it was not some stunt-gymnast in my sewing room today but me, for realz, and I sewed so very much, of which I shall show only one photo. Today’s installment is brought to you be Dusty Springfield whom I listened to for the afternoon (followed by Adele), stylish diva with impeccable vocal stylings somewhat squandered on perhaps the most pathetic torch songs ever committed to record.
And finally – more pickles! So many different kids I’m making. These look to be extra-awesome. Because of that motherfucking jalapeÃ±o you’re getting a glimpse of. It’s saying to me, “Hey, guess what, I’m going to be delivering some awesomeness to your face soon.”
Life is almost leaving me in the lurch; time to collapse into bed. It’s my nine-year wedding anniversary today (the 8th) and as of yet I have nothing much planned.