Chris counts some of the almost 200 Avicularia versicolor (um, tarantula) babies he helped bring into the word. Turquoise, fuzzy and cute.

My, how portraiture has changed. The top photo (taken circa 1916) shows my grandfather (mom's dad) at bottom left--the little boy with intensity written all over his face. Maybe he wasn't happy with his outfit. I LOVE the stern look of my great-grandfather, the patriarch in the photo. But perhaps my favorite is the girl at bottom right. Aunt Port, they called her. My grandfather's sister. She was named Porter after her dad, mr. stern guy. She just looks cool.
Side note: my great-grandfather and his six eldest kids moved from west Tennessee to Vardaman, Mississippi, via covered wagon just before this photo was taken. His wife (the second) and the three youngest traveled via train.

Second photo--my super dad. Photographed on my aunt's porch in Bellingham, WA. Circa now.

My first time in Seattle, and the phrase "I am home" sung in Cobalt Season fashion is looping in my head. From the scent of coffee floating in the atmosphere as I rode in a clean air taxi from the airport to downtown, windows wide open on a sunny 70-degree day, to the snow-capped cupcakes in the distance . . . all is well.

"Hazy blues greet me as ambassadors
With their scrolls and scripts in hand
And in between these walls and circumstance
I really find out who I am

So hear me out, lift me up, help to carry my load
Feel my cries, see me laugh, I am home"

Yes, I know. Juice . . . again. But, the colors never cease to amaze me. (as well as the corresponding flavors) I feel in a bit of a lull lately. Travel this week shall help greatly, methinks.

Oh. Here's this one: carrot, beet, apple, kiwi, orange, kale, dandelion greens juice

. . . for people to tour posh penthouse.