197/365

saturday night:

barbeque sandwiches
the sounds of cicadas
the hum of the air conditioner
strawberries, fresh whipped cream
lightning bugs, again
the moon, again

196/365

friday night:

photographs of bubbles
lamentations over the last of the gooey butter cake
the last black man in san francisco
backyard moonlight bathing
a lightning bug, inside our house

(oh my goodness run run run to see the last black man in san francisco)

195/365

things I can't bring myself to throw out, part one:

strawberry-stained paper towels
empty topo chico bottles
film cannisters

194/365

things that comfort me, part one:

sitcom reruns
stacks of books next to the bed
my coffee in the same cup every morning

193/365

things I genuinely love about ezra:

appreciates a perfectly ripe avocado as much as a fresh bag of hot chili pepper takis
toggles between intense bursts of video game-playing and book-reading with enviable ease 
gets as excited as I do about lightning bugs *and* lightning whelks
gets why bottle rocket is clearly wes anderson's best film and can now insert the lil banana quote into any given conversation
keeps jars of old skeleton keys and vintage watch parts and various found objects in his room
never met a toddler (or cat) who did not absolutely love him
actually reads books I recommend (and then lets me tell him why they're important)
knows when to put the controller down and get on his bike and ride
often carries a small black backpack he refers to as his 'adventure sack'

has pretty exceptional observational skills

sincerely appreciates a good road trip
is diligently working on folding a thousand paper cranes
shares his favorite songs with me at the end of long days when I just can't with people and the world anymore
makes a mean turkey avocado sandwich
will watch episodes of seinfeld and the office and parks and rec over and over and over again with me
takes the art he makes seriously
once declined an opportunity visit the city where he grew up (portland) because he wanted to 'remember it the way it was'
brings me things like tiny flowers and paint palettes from art class
has a writer in him fighting to get out
has recently taken up whittling
is not stingy with hugs

(happy 15th birthday to my favorite boy in the world and someday when you are reading through my old blog posts, I hope you find this and I hope it brings you so much joy)

192/365

junk food purchased today for a birthday junk food sleepover tonight:

gummy worms
sour gummy worms
chocolate
so much chocolate
and lots of orange food
like cheetos
and takis
and bacon-flavored cheezits
last but not least:
birthday cake oreos

you only turn fifteen once.

though admittedly, I did feel as if I needed to explain myself to the target cashier.

191/365

small pleasures, part eight:

seashells
fortune cookies
airplane window seats
the first five minutes of a hot bath
freshly sharpened pencils
the smell of rain
fake accents

190/365

the week in wonders:

ladybug swarms
public punching bags
fruit sticker artistry
furry neon caves
bread cameras

189/365

excuses I have made (and will probably continue to make) to eat donuts:

it's the first day of school
it's the last day of school
it's my birthday
it's your birthday
it's been a hard day
it's been a good day
it's monday
it's tuesday
it's wednesday
it's thursday
it's friday
it's saturday
it's sunday
it's national donut day

(happy national donut day, lovers)

188/365

personal quirks, part one:

I sometimes travel with (small) lamps
I sometimes travel with (soft white) light bulbs 
I sometimes (discreetly) rearrange lamps in places I stay, in order to optimize atmosphere

you know, it's really too bad I can't find a job as a lamp whisperer.

187/365

words I had to look up in the dictionary in may:

palimpsest
vicissitude
prefatory
atavistic
extemporize
ablative
phalanx
inure

186/365

things I do when I feel tired and old, part one:

ride bikes
turn cartwheels
look at old photographs of my younger child self
try to remember she's still in there, somewhere

185/365

things I do when things are too much and the world is too much and I can't breathe, part one:

mend things

plan an imaginary trip

cook something that requires garlic and onions and butter

get in the car and drive

walk to the library

collect clouds

184/365

books I read in may:

the great believers (rebecca makkai)
where the crawdads sing (delia owens)
big magic (elizabeth gilbert)
the interestings (meg wolitzer)
I dreamed I had a girl in my pocket (wendy ewald)

183/365

on this first day of june:

strawberries, picked
strawberries, rinsed
strawberries, eaten