Monday, May 23, 2016

Field Work

Having a Field can be hard work.

And Mistah has risen to the task.

He's always out there raking and chopping and lopping and clearing.

And voilĂ , a new hole in the fence.

I get into the act, too. See all that brush?

Cleared it right out.

And then the best part? One gets to admire one's work.

(Why yes, we are still wearing hats in late May.)

Speaking of late May, it's Iri Season around here.

But anyway, back to The Field.

The other best part is sending Mistah out into it with his camera.

I can't get enough of the view of the back of our house 800 miles away.

The worm's eye view.

Mistah and Frankie have taken to Frisbee Frolicking in The Field.

And sometimes we like to have photo sessions on the Weed Tree Trunk:

(Remind me to tell you about that weird house in the background. Seriously.)

But then, always, it's back to work . . .

. . . A Work In Progress.

Friday, May 20, 2016

jilly bowl

You know that moment when you're at a concert and it gets sorta quiet, and then you hear a few notes of a really great song? I love that.

Last weekend it was Billy Joel, and Vienna. What a song, that one. Is it just me, or do you  belt out the words to that song whenever you hear it and immediately add it to your karaoke/soundtrack/lifestory playlist? I mean, c'mon.

Slow down, you crazy child. Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while. It's alright you can afford to lose a day or two.
You sing it out, alright. And even when you notice that you're the only one doing so,  you just sing louder, because it's a great song. You're in the cheap seats, after all. Amateur hour.

Then later, you move down to a really great spot where you kindred old-drunk spirit tribe is grooving to the Big Shot vibe, making eyes and making out and dancing with big smiles on that beautiful night at the ballpark.

Again, it gets quiet. Again, the first notes rock your socks off. Because it's Scenes from an Italian Restaurant! And you jump up and down with all the happy peeps and you are so glad to be down here where everyone is going to know the words.

And yet? When you look around for a likeminded belter outer as Brenda and Eddie meet their inevitable fate, you once again find yourself the only one singing. And it's fine, because it's a great freaking song and you're kinda famous for your enthusiasm and for knowing all the words, but really the only question that lingers in that lovely, lonely moment is.... where are my sisters?

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Jump for joy

I somehow neglected to get a group photo of my mom, my girls, and me on Mother's Day. We were too busy sharing the most delicious cinnamon bun in the universe I suppose. (Seriously, Banker's Hill Bar & Restaurant. Try it.)

Or maybe we were lamenting how these heirloom tomato seeds, placed in this cute little tin and accompanied by this lovely jam recipe (given to all the mom's in attendance that day), were no doubt going to go to waste. (Jacquie - I've got two tins - they're all yours!!)

Whatever the reasons, my attempt to capture the day somehow turned into this motherless series of photos.

Happy belated.