Picnic with Jasper.
The sky is on fire in NYC tonight.
Glad someone got a shot of this. I could tell it was spectacular but my vantage point was poor.
I wonder if our neighbors ever get tired of seeing us on this stoop? Our next apartment has to have proper outdoor space.
Just when he couldn’t get any sadder, Wallace discovers that his god-sisters Lucy and Cocoa have like a bazillion more toys than he does.
What’s worse than the cone of shame? When your mama furthers the humiliation by posting your picture on the Internet.
(He’s eating his tail. It’s not pretty.)
I’m not sure what came over me, but I awoke possessed with this thought. And now it is reality.
There are now exactly zero reasons to leave my neighborhood. #thevegetarianandthemeatball #alovestory
This is delicious progress in the ‘hood. (And possibly progress in tempting Rachel to join the dark side?)
I know half of my reaction to this current crisis is due to PMS, but my work related anxiety is getting out of hand. I need to get a grip. Pray for sleep. It doesn’t look good.
From separate parties in the same afternoon. It seems people trust me where food decisions are concerned.
Like he was born to be chauffeured.
I’m only eating bread salad for the rest of the summer.