Songs on shuffle. Fruit basket turnover!! Needed some unpredictability in my life...
Hairshirt, REM.
Corcovado, Astrud Gilberto.
Last Dance With Mary Jane, Tom Petty.
Sanssouci, Rufus Wainwright.
Limit to Your Love, Feist.
Orange Sky, Alexi Murdoch.
Santa Clara, The National.
Lulu-vise, Sondre Lerche.
Your Protector, Fleet Foxes.
How Man Was Made, Josh Ritter. (this is what I cue up when I need a good cry)
Snacking on:
Some of the overdone ends of the three huge pans of caramel bars I just baked. Now I remember why it's such a good thing that I never bake. Sheesh. About four laps around the perimeter of Sylvan Park might even out the damage I've done. Oh but it's such salty-sweet, sticky-gooey-chewy deliciosity. I might even say it was worth it, and we all know I'm not actually going to go on that run, not unless I get a wild notion around 11pm when the sun is good and gone. Possible.
Painting:
Blue skies. Lots of them.
Wearing:
my pretty blue barrette that has real diamonds in it. That's a lie. I like to call anything remotely shiny or faceted a diamond. Make-believe affords me some small extravagances.
Wondering:
How on earth my feet get so black. Could it be because I never wear shoes in the summer?
Terrified of:
Cooking for 140 people this weekend.
Excited about:
Cooking for 140 people this weekend.
