The pink daffodil is an exquisite creature. This was the only variety of daffodil I ever planted with any lasting success, at the foot of a woodland path at my childhood home. They lasted for years there, consistently putting on their enchanting show every spring. Hybridizers have come a long way since then, as most of the color I remember in the cups was salmon or peach – there are not distinctly pink versions. This one falls somewhere in-between, and it was a forced pot in the local market. Still magical… on with the weekly recap.
In the waning light of winter.
Bad Bunny bulging in his Calvins.
The Albany woman who mooned the men.
Playing Block Blast is an emotional minefield.
A pose that’s lasted 35 years.
Sometimes when I’m washing windows I hear this voice.
We are not doing this shit again.
A sugar plum ballerina guided us along the next installment of The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale. Twenty years ago felt so precarious at the time, but it was nothing compared to today.
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