Death By Craft

277/365
4:29 p.m.

The entire table was an abandoned mound of construction paper, topless markers, forkfuls of yarn, deflated balloons, ribbons of Scotch tape, teaspoons of glue puddles, and enough Q-tips to make real-life skeleton depictions for all four of us.

And this is why we don't play with glitter.

Weariness

266/365
12:03 p.m.

Second verse, same as the first.

General Malaise

265/365
1:01 p.m.

We have been living in a persistent state of The Doldrums for weeks; the sky appears incapable of moving off the black-white color spectrum and rain, for the love of all things holy, the rain Just.Won't.Stop. To illustrate the grayness of our existence, this shot of our lovely spider and, behind it, the bony, leafless mass of the ugliest tree on the street, is actually in color. Most serious, folks.

Ah One, Ah Two, Ah Three

254/365
1:37 p.m.

Just waiting for them to break out in Rockette-style rendition of Old MacDonald.

um, well, oops

226/365
6:25p.m.

Um, so, well, you see, we had some Jerk Turkey Burgers for dinner. And, well, um, [shuffling feet], they were the kind that, while delicious, crumbled a bit into the grill. And, so, after they came off and we were busy putting plates together inside--you know where this is going, right?--those little bits of juicy turkey goodness decided to Combust. Shooting Flames. Wooden Fence. Holy Crap. Run! Go! Get! The! Fire! Extinguisher! After several blasting shots of compressed nitrogen, resulting in an upward cascading volcanic billow over the neighborhood, the blaze was adequately snuffed. The wooden fence? Saved! The grill? Maybe not so much.