Sometimes A Picture Really Is Worth A Thousand Words

We partied at what Ralph liked to refer to as "his basement apartment" yesterday. Happy Birthday, Daddy.

I thought of you as I weeded yesterday. I copied the way I had seen you carry your shovel over your shoulder as I followed behind you. I wish you had shown me how to sharpen it. I looked at my poor, sick, wind blown tomatoes and knew you would shake your head at their patheticness and then fix them.

36 months of nausea paid off

Thanks, Bre, you're a doll. I very much like my gift.

And Thanks, my favorite Shelly. I'm messing with my ISO camera setting; so far I only see that it turns everything blue. And next week I will doll up my blog so much that you will all be astounded and your jaws will drop with pure dumbfoundedness.

Is This Why People Don't Stay Long?







Or is it the Cinderella syndrome?