Good morning Tucson, and noble Horse.
Horse gets his own card in my deck. He is impossibly noble and true-hearted.
Michele Goldstein gave me this little Native American god mashup; he rules the Avon owls that hang behind him on the candelabra. The owls don’t mind. Evan calls him my Jesus Chicken.
Ah, the callousness of youth.
I really like the idea of wings; I have always felt like I had them, and I’m quite sure Horse does too.
I am current on my shipping; my bills are paid and I am caught up on my correspondence. I should have proofs of the CGB Calendar soon (if you ordered one, don’t worry, the dates won’t start until September to give you the full juice of the thing) and pieces are streaming in again for photography. I have six Zig-Wings here to shoot; this is most excellent.
This should be a beady weekend; I’ve got four projects going myself in addition to the pleasant tasks on the photo table.
All of the birds are awake now, so it must be time for a swim. I hope I see Orangalina or Alexander today. I haven’t yet, since I’ve been back from Boston. I only had my IPhone last night (my Olympus is in the shop getting cleaned up) but even a grainy shot of the situation by the pool is worth showing. Almost full. For tonight’s moonrise, I think I’ll go up a hill, maybe Gate’s Pass, so I can watch it come up over the city. I bet I’m not the only one with that idea…