More pictures of the little one here.
Almost spring.A spiderStakes a claimOn a cornerOf the eight-foot windowIn our living room. Each morningI admireTaut guidelines,Carefully placed spokes,Dancing gown threads,Architecture unrivalled. My motherWould not tolerateSuch slovenly housekeeping.She would get a broomAnd knock downThis errant squatter’s palace. I do not…. Continue Reading →
Thanks to my mom, I know most of the lyrics/songs included on this video. I’ve got many memories of being a “dancing queen,” lamenting my lack of “money money money.” Happy Friday! [via]