Tag Archives: key

To What End

I don’t like not writing and sharing, at the very least, a little. Been trying to post on Instagram the last few months and I’m awful at it. Have had an account for years lying dormant, so thought I’d (finally) give it a go, but after a time, ten likes feel the same as fifty and who the heck cares.

“To

I’ve a backlog of photos I’d like to post that were supposed to find their way to Instagram, but I haven’t tended to business. Yet. I’m more concerned with the photos I’ve let pass by in recent times like the car key that landed perpendicularly onto the elevator crack. Had it landed parallel (onto it), a photo wouldn’t have done any good in capturing the abyss beyond.

“To

I made some pretty nifty zombie heads in jars to celebrate a Walking Dead themed work celebration that deserved a pic or two. Zombies used to scare the poopella outta me, blame it on the release of the 1990 version of Night of the Living Dead. The plodding methodical body with no mind to reason with nor to outmaneuver. Zombies were second only to anything in a mask. Obscure the eyes, cover the nuance of movement upon the face, leave nothing to be “read”? Michael Meyers embodies both the methodical plodding AND an engulfing mask. Love what you fear.

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Oh, and that time the engine nearly fell out of my car wiping the oil pan out entirely and was salvaged only by a portion of a passenger-side floorboard. That was meant for a photo, but I was just glad to not have injured anyone. Now a mere two weeks later, all is again safe and up to speed quite literally. My lovely little Beetle lives on.

“To

Did manage to capture my favorite gift wrap job from a mucho talented friend.

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And I’ve taken some holiday photos for the sharing. Christmas feels like a marathon this year and I’m one pie crust behind. A different kinda tree here, a bit of a Charlie Brown up and off the ground so Julian’s little body can have free reign to move about without fear of a tree mishap, like accidentally donning the thing. He’s not a cat after all (resists temptation to post video of felines harassing holiday foliage).

Speaking of little bodies, I’m an aunt! Sure, I have a little over five months more till we meet, but aunt, I am. Bean calls the baby Button. There’s much speculation over whether Button is a boy or a girl, and I say, “Don’t worry, we’ll ask her when she gets here.” Yes, Bee, Bean and Button.

Still wondering where I belong in the world overall. Thankful for the pockets I fit here and there. Wish I had an everloving clue on where to look and what to seek, cuz it’s getting late(r) in the game, and it’s all going so fast. ♦

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And They Began Happily Ever After …

“Bean

And they began happily ever after …
Bean looking beyond lovely, complete with hair styled in likeness to a shot of Selena Gomez via her request (Bean’s, not Selena’s) with a dramatic side sweep of curls. Having shopped around for veils and fascinators galore, and remaining less than thrilled with what was available, I fashioned her one myself, along with the accompanying lock to Shane’s key and a secret childhood ode nestled within for those in the “nose” only.
 
Sporting red felt suspenders that’ve been mine since the age of two, Elliott could hardly have been cuter as ring bearer. I love being regaled with the latest stories often showcasing the wisdom he possesses far beyond his years. However, that all went to pot upon his discovering the power of a microphone. With his father emceeing the reception, Elliott chose to treat easy access to the mic as a confessional. Several “confessions” in, he announces, “Sometimes I put my toys away,“ and a beat later, tugging on his dad’s tie to lower the microphone yet again, he continues, “And sometimes, I don’t.”

“Groom's

Taking a Chance on Love.
The groom representing his country of origin via the bride’s gift of cufflinks handcrafted and distressed by a friend. That evening’s dance partner- though not upstaging the groom- he certainly knew how to make an entrance, adding a palatable amount of punk to the soiree with his top hat, mohawk, studs, and kilt. His skirt was nearly prettier than mine.

Possessing the key to another’s heart.

Possessing the key to another’s heart. Five years into a serious relationship sure to culminate in matrimony, Shane walked into Bean’s life, and quickly confused the matter with his undivided attention and common kindnesses mostly abandoned by the boyfriend (his accent didn’t seem to hurt either). Does she stick around and see it through with so much time invested with someone already, or does she risk it all for something possibly more fulfilling, something sparked to fire by one that only glimmers with the other. That better fit. Though not without its pain or difficulty, Bean chose, and chose well, despite the risk of coupling with a guy four years her junior which at the time, seemed a largish gap, as Shane was a mere twenty. Now at twenty-six, and one of seven brothers all or mostly in or on the way to wedded bliss, he seems cut from a cloth of devotion. They provide hope that a love that’s true will yet find me as well.

“Wedding

But a few details.

“Guest

Be Our Guest.
Putting my wonkish writing to good use. It was a circus-themed affair peppered heavily with an array of Disney references as Bean loves Disney nearly as much as she loves books, and Shane loves Disney nearly as much as he loves Bean.

“Salted

It goes without saying.
Portable cake- a large tiered tower of salted caramel cuppiecakes in the most blueish of velvet, as opposed to the all too common red, was enjoyed by most all. NOTE: don’t lick the salt, eat it alongside the caramel and cake. Le and duh. ♦

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