So pretty. In February. Not fair.
He loved me! Probably because I'm made of pure sugar.
I wouldn't mind bills so much if I got to pluck them from this box.
Cru Cafe Tomato Basil Soup. Yes. Trust me.
I loved these gnarly branches. I just wanted to climb up there with my book.
I was very attracted to this display of buttons at a thrift store I wandered into. I didn't buy any though. Regret.
Adored this guy on the bike. Don't know why, but I did.
2. While in town, we also took a boat tour that landed us on a deserted barrier island for a couple of hours. I have since decided that I want my own private island so that I can come across treasures like this daily:
And also so I can spread my arms and run around making airplane noises without anyone seeing me and labeling me "childish" or "just plain nuts".
Similar reasoning behind the making peace sign shadows and then taking pictures of them. These are the kinds of things one can do on her own private island without fear of retribution. Or laughing pointing fingers.
Oh, and do you see all of those open shells there? Here this photo is better:
For some reason, all I could think of was that it looked like the morning after a sea gull frat party. Instead of a scattering of red Solo cups and smashed Budweiser cans like in the human version, there was a sea of cracked and picked clean mollusk shells dotting the beach. I imagined the engorged birds lying around somewhere over on the other side of the island belching and rubbing their swollen bellies. They better not get too comfortable though, because when I assume ownership of this island these nights of debauchery will be no more. Not on my island buddy. Birdy. You know who I mean.