Phyllis 265/365

"Dear Mommy,

Do you want to play something?

PS - I ♥ U"

I can't believe he's old enough to write all of that

and pass me a note.

Laura

I miss her cooking, and her giant hugs that squeezed all the air out of your chest. I miss her dresses and pantyhose - God, that cracked me up when I was a teenager. I miss her plastic covered furniture, her German lithographs, and her slippers. I miss the way she used to yell at Grampa, and I'll bet deep down, he does too. I miss her stories, her history lessons, and her preserved fruit plucked out of the orchard in the back yard. But mostly, I just miss her. And I wish I could turn back time today.

Becca or Cori

Kate's picture she made on the ipod touch

Mary

My friend and I used to joke about whether or not we were actually the same person, and whether we'd only cast one shadow if we stood together. Now I have evidence that we have separate shadows, as his is holding mine up with a marshmallow gun!

Phyllis 248/365

Troye

Our visit to Galveston over Labor Day weekend

Laura

This is a crappy picture, but I could barely sit still long enough to take it. I found the Portland ASEH conference schedule on the website and assumed since I hadn't heard back from them that I wasn't selected to present. That is, until I scrolled down two pages. Funny way to find out you're in the big leagues now!

That's me and my paper - my thesis, my baby - on the official schedule. If I could virtually insert *me, freaking out* right here, I would.

Angel

Starting on Thursday and ending, sadly, today, my mother and I took a short cemetery tour through cajun country in south central louisiana. This is one grave in New Iberia that was from the mid 1800s that someone had recently glued Mary onto. Her bottom was still a little pliant. I took most of the photos in black and white to capture the contrast and to also capture the essence of these beautiful graves and monuments. Nobody does cemeteries like Louisianans, mainly because they have no choice!

Phyllis 238/365

We have families of geckos that live on our porch

each summer. Here's one little guy, on my porch light.

If you could see the bigger version, he looks like he's

smiling at me.