Sunday, February 28, 2010

Faded and Rusted

tin roof, faded

Dear Spring,
Where the heck are you? I'm cold and my wandering ways are giving me fits. The family has taken to calling the ubiquitous grey scarf knotted at my neck, even while in my pajamas, my wubby. I want to explore; find the waterfalls, an old coal mine, and half buried track that leads to nowhere and everywhere. I want to take pictures of anything other than the inside of my house. I want out. Spring, you are letting me down. Why can't you start now instead of almost three weeks from now? Call me. I'm sure we can work something out.

The Lady has been inspired and I'm passing along her request. She is going to do an art project with the bits and pieces of love ephemera we send to her (photos, letters, stories, postcards, etc.). If you are interested in participating, read more here.

I would send in the feelings Patrick's music evokes in me but I wouldn't know how to mail them...sigh...

tin roof, rusted


Left-Handed Housewife said...

Do you think if we offered spring money? Our firstborn cabbage? What will it take? A girl can only sit by the window eating chocolate so long before she begins to despair ...


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