Blooming Bubbles Are Soft and Go "Purrrrrrr"

I solved my camera/computer issues! So...pictures.

Two still-blooming complimentary flowers from last weekend's Andersonville Sommerfest, where I worked as a volunteer at the Edgewater Historical Society booth. Fortunately, no one approached me expecting any historical expertise, because all I would have been able to offer would have been something like "this Cheetah gym has been serving organic smoothies since 2005, and in 1861 was a campaign stop for Lincoln, who delivered a whistle stop speech on that very treadmill."

A few weeks back I was making myself miserable by locking myself in my apartment and working like a deadline-crazed hamster. (Seriously, I have to stop doing that.) I finally emerged, blinking and disoriented, mid-afternoon, and went downstairs to check my mail. Among that day's USPS offerings was a little box that mysteriously rattled when I shook it. A fruit-flavored rattle, as it turns out. Novelty gum! It was the perfect antidote to my mood. Thanks, unspecified sibling who knows how to make me laugh!

And finally, since sassy Calpurnia gets all the play around here, a tribute to my quiet little shadow, my lapwarmer and co-editor on all important projects, Flora. She was named for the Amish part of my family and reflects their gentle, withdrawn ways. Some people believe her to be a myth, because she hides under the bed when strangers visit. Yes, she is as soft as she looks, and she's very loving and affectionate, which is great because she needs some redeeming cuteness to balance out the fact that every few weeks she pukes up these long, warm, turdlike things that are a mixture of food, hair, and whatever bugs she may have eaten during the day. Usually on my bed.