Project 365 | Week 25

Can you believe it’s already summer solstice this month?  And that 4th of July is sprouting these white tents filled with explosives for thirteen year old boys to use in their neighbors driveways.  Ahhh the terror, must make more lists.

Day 170:

Construction

Sometimes even the ugly things about cities can be beautiful.  PS.  See that blue and yellow umbrella through the crack of metal, I crave those hotdogs in my sleep.

Day 171:

Red Hair, Don’t Care

Mom took a box to my hair earlier this week for extra highlights.  She’s a natural red head, and due to my weird brownish blondish hair with red highlights sometimes I need a quick spruce up.  I think of it like I’m a flower who needs to be watered.  Corny?

Day 172:

No big deal, just licking museum tools that other kids touch all day.

“Oh, you don’t want me to lick this giant magnifying glass at the end of a museum day that other people have to use, and believe me, have used, all day. Oops,” – my nephew.

Day 173:

Chivalry

I’ve always been that girl who says “I don’t want flowers because they just die.”  Why was I that girl again?  Flowers die in the prettiest ways because they bloom and thrive first.  These roses are “Mount Everest” roses and they die looking like paper with black creases in the petals.  My boy knows that even my flowers need to be bookish (Hah).

Day 174:

Escazu Homemade Chocolate Popsicles

So, Raleigh has this chocolate shop.  And that’s the end of that story.

Day 175:

Scrabble Earrings

I made new earrings last week for my future English Teacher status.  If you would like a pair, I can definitely make some – I have a few extra scrabble beads and would be happy to send them out.  Just email me if interested.

Plus, here’s a poem:

Hymn to the Neck

by Amy Gerstler
Tamed by starched collars or looped by the noose,
all hail the stem that holds up the frail cranial buttercup.
The neck throbs with dread of the guillotine's kiss, while
the silly, bracelet-craving wrists chafe in their handcuffs.
Your one and only neck, home to glottis, tonsils,
and many other highly specialized pieces of meat, 
is covered with stubble. Three mornings ago, undeserving
sinner though she is, yours truly got to watch you shave
in the bath. Sap matted your chest hair. A clouded 
hand mirror reflected a piece of your cheek. Vapor
rose all around like spirit-infested mist in some fabled
rainforest. The throat is the road. Speech is its pilgrim. 
Something pulses visibly in your neck as the words
hand me a towel flower from your mouth.

Day 176:

Bugs are totally stepping up their fashion game.

This moth has it goin’ on, sister.

12 thoughts on “Project 365 | Week 25

  1. nymuse88 says:

    I loved these pics as usual! ;) I also love what you said about the flowers. Gave me an idea for a poem, which if I write it, I will totally dedicate it to you!

      • The Other Watson says:

        Haha, uh oh. I hope you actually like it. Whenever I give a strong review of a book, I always worry that someone will read it and think “what the heck, this is crap!” Though everybody I have spoken to who has read the book says it’s amazing as well. Actually, everybody has cried at the same bit I did, too, hahaha.
        Currently reading last year’s Man Booker winner, The Sense of an Ending. Unsure how I feel about it….

    • Cassie says:

      I love them too! I’m a daisy girl, but these are too pretty not to love. I’m hanging a few upside down to dry them and save them now. Thank you!

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