friday happy to you m’loves. california should be receiving its first autumnal deluge any second, and i couldn’t be more excited. i love me a nasty storm. here’s my recipe for making the most out of a hawkish downpour: trenches, boots, and scarves...
halloween’s a stirring. our hood is alive with the spook: pumpkins guard the stoops, skeletons sway on second stories, and the smell of fog machines, misting out their gloomy soup, permeate the air as the final dress rehearsals are run on houses haunted. we do...
farewell my endless, carefree as a whisper, summer. i will miss you much. i will miss the smell of your backyard barbecue. the silent, but potent neighborhood bell which beckoned the sunburnt, beach-cruiser riding puppies home each day from the sand. how sad...
while our kin on the east are bracing for that nasty girl, irene, temperatures here in the west, are smoldering chaud. the heat feels thick and heavy; like an invisible, clear fog has seeped in to bake us. skirts are short and skin is bare. hair is worn high to avoid...
this weekend i’m making an effort to change where and how i look at my world. i will try to un-fix my stubborn lenses so that i don’t miss out on all the beauty to be had, even when just walking to the mailbox. i tend to cartwheel and spark over the shiny...
priscilla was feeling a bit neglected from goodniteirene of late, and has a few things she’d like to say: there. her voice has been heard. satisfied, for now, she has retreated into her pocket of priestess where she plans her next business of monkey. victories:...
