Little Chicken/Favorite Sweater

Taubman (finally)

Benne

Actually - NO.

Sunday afternoon cuisine is so weird.

There's:

spaghetti

green bean casserole,

one lone black bean burger,

a wimpy roast chicken with olive oil & potatoes,

black bean hummus,

scrambled eggs in a skillet from this...morning, 

& various mexican restaurant leftovers sitting out on the counter.

And - why is the ketchup out.

Feh.

Those are pearls that were his eyes

'Leah frowned at Adah, then at me, trying to decide which one of us was the true enemy. She decided on me.
"You can't just assume that what's right & wrong for us is the same as what was right or wrong for them," she said.
"Thou shalt not kill," I replied. "That's not just our way of thinking. It happens to be in the Bible."
Leah & Adah smiled at each other.
"Right. Here's to the Bible," Leah said, clinking her bottle against mine.
"Tata Jesus is bangala!" Adah said, raising her bottle too. She & Leah looked at each other for a second, then both started laughing like hyenas.
"Jesus is poisonwood!" Leah said. "Here's to the Minister of Poisonwood. And here's to his five wives!"
Adah stopped laughing. "That was us."
"Who?" I said. "What?"
"Nathan's five legendary wives. They must have meant us."
Leah stared at her. "You're right."
Like I said: night, day, & the Fourth of July. I don't even try to understand.'

Lately I've been attracted to the graininess achieved with that cheap thing known as a camera embedded over the screen on my laptop - an extra I never thought I'd need or enjoy.

Au contraire.

It also takes mirror image photos. 

Shweet.

Doors

I have a dream...

Band Marino's poster art

By the way...

...I love food.

Almost as much as music. 

So here's some food to make you happy, too.

French fries at this place in Chattanooga called the Good Dog. They've been calling my name ever since & I can't forget them...

And a crumbly cake with sour cream on a spring evening (60 degrees, thank you)...

Band Marino makes me almost as happy as food does.

Especially their poster art. 

Chattanooga

Here's lookin' at you, kid

Gee, ain't it grand?

I watched the documentary 'Helvetica' this week, & now I see it everywhere...it follows me 'round street corners & haunts the covers of my books.

When it comes to 'love Helvetica, hate Helvetica' I teeter on the somewhat shoddy fence of font mood swings: 'only Georgia shall do today, only Cambria this day, I would like something sans serif today'...that sort of thing. As if life weren't complicated enough...

I really ought to update this more often. It just slips my mind, or else I turn to that almost - dead thing known as Xanga.

Feh! 

A pre-snow day - 50 degrees, thank you.

And the beautiful reason I've missed church two weeks in a row...& what strangely put me in the mood for a screening of Casablanca.

I'm struggling with the narcissistic aura that comes with posting pictures of oneself on one's own blog, but...I wanted Abigail to see the outfit, &...whatever. Nobody, including myself, really cares. 

Plus - the cat's photogenic.