We were not able to celebrate with my niece after all on account of my brother being socked in by worse weather than fell on Boston, but
spatch and
rushthatspeaks and I joined my parents this afternoon for my father's birthday observed with New York-style pizza from Joe's in Harvard Square and a slightly spontaneous cherry cake with whipped cream and strawberries supplemented by small creatures from Burdick's, centrally a rabbit in dark chocolate for my father who considers white chocolate an abomination. (I enjoyed my white chocolate sheep Lovecraftianly.) I had gotten him the pre-birthday present of the Library of America's Into the Blue: American Writing on Aviation and Spaceflight (2011) and my mother the unbirthday present of Dolores Hitchens' The Cat Wears a Noose (1945) before coming home to Hestia who doesn't even wear a collar. It had been ages since I ate a slice of pizza that could really be folded over. There are considerable leftovers whose life expectancy we have no great hopes of.
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Active Entries
- 1: If I'm hoping, then I'm hoping for the frost
- 2: There's nothing here but echoes
- 3: There's no boat to take me where all the stars go to cross the water
- 4: Once you know it's a dream, it can't hurt
- 5: All the ghosts, some old, some new
- 6: The wind is blowing the planes around
- 7: Let the lights run like rivers all over my skin
- 8: I am bound to these shores, I'll be bound till the end
- 9: Wish everyone could hear when she sings
Style Credit
- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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