A few months ago I bought the world’s best bath towels. I only bought three of them because they cost an absolute fortune but the sales lady at Bloomingdales assured me they’d be worth it. Here we are six months later and those three towels have held up extraordinarily well even with insane overuse because
I was so excited when a bird settled in on my kitchen window. I thought it was a good omen. The only one who got lucky was Sparky. Sparky’s kill list is long. Last Wednesday night Sparky slept on Jane’s bed. This is odd, because Sparky never goes into Jane’s room, she sleeps with Alexander.
My back yard has a trumpet vine that threatens to take over the carport. It blooms madly in the early summer and again in August. There are bursts of red, pink and orange that remind me of Carmen Miranda and a tangle of greenery that is home to at least two songbird nests. When Pedro
Jane won two goldfish at a carnival this weekend. My father kept them alive all day Sunday. Sparky would like to thank him for that, apparently they were delicious.