Shopping with Nancy Marie at Yesterday's Rose in Fairfax (great thrift shop!) --and dinner afterward at the Vietnamese restaurant next door, where we laughed 'way too much (guaging by the sideways looks we were getting from fellow diners). We were remembering how, in high school, we used to hit the 35 cent photo booths at Seven Corners for commemorative shots like these...
Sunday, November 26, 2006
I ended up working on Stan's picture sub-Stan-tially this afternoon, so I gotta repost it. Here is the latest incarnation. Ever since I switched over to the *NEW* improved Beta version of Blogger, I've been needing to make two or three assays before pictures print. On the other hand, since acquiring high speed cable service, it all still goes five times faster than formerly.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
the little Christmas trees up this weekend. They look better in my eyes than they do in the photos, I must admit--I think they'd look better if we could get all the detritus--the plastic ornament bin, busted-up boom box, telescope, for Christ's sake (yes, all for Christ's sake in this blessed season!)... but Stan is looking pretty good so far.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
--childhood friend and computer savant came to visit on the day before Thanksgiving and gave us one more reason for gratitude--he oversaw and troubleshot (trouble-shooted??) our transition to high-speed cable internet. Here, he delivers his "I drive an hour from my Mom's place to see you guys and WHAT do I end up doing (as usual??)" look. Thanks, Ashtu!
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Saturday, November 11, 2006
In case you EVER wondered what people without television do on weekends: Friday evening at Club Thirteen. We hang with Stan, practice our photojournalism ("Primitive denizens of Lake Arrowhead--innocent, emotional Children of Nature!") and strive for a range of expression while waiting for the grill to heat up. Which image for the Christmas card this year?
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Visit last weekend in Milford with Chad in his dreamy dim aristocratically derelict booklined and glass-trimmed and wonderously askew farmhouse, with Anne Berry, black cat Satan and another really lovely and slow and heartbreakingly dignified cat of impecable deportment that I was so taken with I had to photograph him and now damned if I can recall the gentleman's name...