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Dancing the dance of Pgh rush hour
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Under the mountain we go.
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Extra gothic, well, mock-Tudor if you want to be technical
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Playing hooky from my hats out on trail
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Working in the pale rain-washed light, listening to Stereolab #perfectsaturday
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And then it snowed.
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Moonset.
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Making tiny constellations of toadstools specks
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The spice must flow.
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Battleplan phase: Little & Fiddly is go.
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The saddest kitty-pout.
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Not actually the resident ghost-cat.
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@vonslatt No, I tell a lie. I have a rust, copper and wrought iron hat. But only one!
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Oxalis in bloom.
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Pale cats must shed on black, dark cats must shed on white things. This is the rule.
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The tiniest radiator.
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Tea's on.
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New haircut. Which the Instagram filters fail to display. Hm.
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The tiniest hat gets the most trimmings.
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Adventures in petticoat making.
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Pfaff 230, the old war horse.
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Crocuses
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Vintage button imprint.
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Ruffles, bitches! Wait, I mean. Petticoat accomplished!
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Pgh infrastructure: rivets a specialty.
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Bus station discotheque
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Grand Age of Industry rail station (compare with bus station disco)
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O St. Brass, your blessings upon this venture! Save me from tarnish. Amen.
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Good morning Chicagoland
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Chicago's beautified air ducts. Makes everything since look pale in comparison.
