Like little pre-dusk backyard stars.

Early Sunday

That there is a tower of FREEDOM

Muddled mint from the garden with lime and sugar. Poured in rum. Brought in a jar to a party with club soda. Was a hit. Finishing the dregs in the jar myself. #rooftopmojitos

Ran, took yoga, and went to dance in the last two days, which means my feet are in characteristically sore. But who needs Advil when God made wine, huh?

Oh, you know, just nighttime after dance class (at Mark Morris Dance Group)

Summer: when the hairs do what they wanna do. It’s all curly all the time. #rareselfie

Can I tell you a secret?

An embarrassing amount of what I know about classic literature comes from a kids’ TV show called Wishbone.

You might remember the show. It aired on PBS in the 1990s and introduced young viewers (around middle school age) to the plots of great books. Each episode followed a familiar pattern: Wishbone—a Jack Russell terrier with, as the theme song put it, a “big imagination”—and his family encountered some kind of normal real-life situation to which the young viewer could relate. Maybe they went on a picnic, or worked on a science fair project, or encountered a moral dilemma and had to make a good decision.


"Please refrain from racial slurs"

Watching the final in serious style, thanks to the cousins

Virginia (at Uptown Alley Richmond)

Well we’re not in the city anymore

I am large: I contain a Cinnabon, and an Auntie Anne’s, and a Starbucks (at Walt Whitman Rest Stop)

We’re back. Check out (at The Internet)