Sheets of Grass

closeup grass shot

This is not exactly a Walt Whitman poem but a testament to found photographs. So it’s my birthday. I totally cussed out my family for reasons that were reasonable and unreasonable, mostly the latter. I feel bad. Nothing that I talked about is really their fault but I needed to cuss my head off and they deserve credit for throwing it back at me and not ignoring me and I’m making an apology.

Cones, Got Yer Cones

cones east river, NYC
I had a larger cone in my bedroom as a kid for years. I have no idea where it came from other than I know I brought it home one day because it was in the middle of nowhere guarding nothing. It was used as a tee for T-ball sometimes and the top was cracked. I still remember looking at the cone and wondering how to get rid of it. Someone threw it out eventually but it wasn’t me. Probably Mom. I have stuff like cones now that I should throw out.