Things with petals, things with blades.

After we saw Becoming Jane but before I fixed a sink sprayer and then had Noble Roman's pizza with my mother, I became briefly obsessed with this aluminum bloom in a parking lot. My mother, because she's wonderul that way, obliged by driving me around in said parking lot until I had the shots I wanted, neither of which I'm including here but one of which you may see tomorrow. For tonight, echoes.

This time tomorrow, deo volante, I will be back in my bed in Gambier, which (in a not-so-subtle Freudian slip) I have been calling Ithaca ever since I left town more than a week ago. It's getting to be that time again.