tumble dry

So yesterday, when I should have been posting this, I was wasting away (back of hand to forehead, holding lacy hanky) in bed, staying home sick. Replete with man voice, whiskey laugh, and long dramatic tubercular coughing fits punctuating impassioned sentences.


unsharp mask © Laura Kicey

Then I watched some bad daytime television (as if there are other kinds) while working out. Today, I am bouncing off the walls with preposterous amounts of energy and not expending a bit of it.

I had to post part of this comment I received because I laughed so hard I went into a coughing fit, which is okay, as long as no one else is there to appreciate it except my barbaric upstairs neighbors who routinely scream at their telelvision.

I remember when you ran a tiny little booth out of Ambler, PA and only took pictures of frozen stuff and yourself crying.

I don't do that so much anymore. Mostly because, even though it is January, it isn't cold enough to freeze and I've had less clumsy encounters leading to tumbles and weeping.


tumble © Dustin Fenstermacher

And he is really good at picking me up and dusting me off when I do. The above is by Dustin.


gift horse © Laura Kicey

Reasons to smile. That and the sensation is returning to the left side of my face and tongue. Boy is my jaw stiff.