Meine Wee Schwester has up and moved from Denver to South Bend, Indiana, where her fiance has a fantastic teaching job. Lucky for me, this move has been accompanied by a new blog. I thought it was funny to see we both have these orange lantern plants on display in our homes.
It has been cold. In fact, it has been dumping snow all morning (This is a photo from last week). A car just drove by blasting "Jingle Bell Rock."
Back in November, just before Thanksgiving, Catie hosted a little birthday gathering in celebration of...
V., who turned the ripe old age of 27 (look at me, blabbing ages here). Have a fantastic year, V!
Shira came.
And Esther.
And me. And we ate spinach-raisin-goat cheese pizza, and drank wine, and V. blew out her candles on a salted chocolate chip cookie.
I spent Thanksgiving at Esther and Jordan's, with a whole crew of writers and friends of writers. The photos from that evening are far too blurry and dark and unflattering for posting, but I'm posting a couple anyway. I will blame it on the fact that the evening was blurry in spirit, or at least blurred by spirits...But Esther plays the banjo, and has the most amazing voice.
I brought my saw, which I hadn't played in quite some months. Jordan gave it a go.
Halloween ended with these two in a wrestling match, and Tim is still recovering from a separated shoulder, but I guess they've patched things up.
The best thing about Thanksgiving weekend was a visit from my favorite librarian. I took him to Gilgal Gardens. He has been building up the UW's vernacular art/built environment/folk artist/visionary art environment (terminology is so complicated) slide collection, so a visit to Gilgal could be counted as "research." I wonder if he could write off the expense of his plane ticket...?
I know I have posted photos of Mr. Thomas Battersby Childs, Jr. in his splendid brick pants before, but he's cool enough to qualify for a second appearance.
The garden is smack-dab in the middle of a nieghborhood, near a mall and Wonder Bread factory.
The Angel Moroni, sculpted in wire, trumpets over the garden.
And Joseph Smith as Sphinx is pretty darned cool, too.
Inscribed on the Smith-Sphinx's chest is the Temple and the stars of the Big Dipper.
2 comments:
Joseph Smith as Sphinx? Wow!
Ross should totally write it off... I can't see why not? He can have the Smith/Sphinx verify.
Folklorists can write off a lot of stuff. So can students. Good thing I fit into both of those categories right now.
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