I reminded myself that the hour-long wait for the train is part of my afternoon off.

I found a roll of film, undeveloped and expectant, tucked away in a box. I was sure it was a forgotten piece of my long-ago trip to Italy.
Nope.
Turns out, I have no idea where this was shot, when, or by whom.
I'm pretending, though, that it's a once-upon-a-time summer camp. Which, in my current frazzle-y state, sounds even better than Europe.

I can tell my inner knitter fires are raging again, because all I can think when I see that scarf is: a knit version of it would be brilliant. Maybe in the luscious-looking Habu silk mohair?
(Uf. That shisyamu color is giving me the vapors.)

Friday.
Old wine barrels behind the Culinary Institute of America's massive Greystone building. Those corks remind me of noses. And I couldn't help picturing this group with a small object makeover.

*****

Today is day five of my impromptu blackbird, fly week. Earlier posts: 1, 2, 3, and 4.

Thursday.
And now I know I can love the BBF. Those puddles of light melt me. I could eat them with a spoon.

*****

Today is day four of my impromptu blackbird, fly week. For earlier posts, click 1, 2, and three.