Sandwich Supreme

I like lots of things. Detective work, for instance. And watering plants.

Poems, too. And postcards. (I can't think of any reason not to send a postcard to a friend.)

I like writing letters and identifying birds. When I pass by an open window, I like to look in it. I like dictionaries and etymologies. And I'm especially fond of rainy days.

But there aren't many things I like more than a good sandwich. I love sandwiches.

I loved this sandwich so I much I took twenty pictures of it this morning. I think I invented it.

Whole wheat bread, cream cheese, blackberries, sunflower seeds, and pumpkin butter. Henceforth you ingredients will be known as Sandwich Supreme.

Sandwich Supreme, you were good. You tasted like cake.

Birds

I found something strange this morning. Just before it flew away I managed to snap a shot:

A bird in my hair!

I've always wanted to know what birds sing about when the hour is early and the air is cold and blue. It seems like an enormous racket to make over the rising of the sun, which happens every day, after all. And why don't they sing when it rains? And how do you make them your friends, so that they'll flutter round your head and perch on your shoulder whenever you like? I took this opportunity to ask.

What do you sing about, bird?

Oh really? That's awfully poetic of you.

I think it's probably more like this:

Well, who wouldn't sing about sunflower seeds? They're delicious.

Snaggletooth

Last weekend my favorite companion took me to the lake at Fort Sheridan. We wanted to rest, but as soon as we sat down my red litho crayon insisted on conquering the beach.

Brave crayon!

Now give us a beach smile.

If you squint, doesn't it actually look like a smile?

Eyebrows

This childhood image shows me as I was for many years: without eyebrows.

Maybe that's why I like to draw 'em so much now. I really enjoyed drawing this luxurious pair, for instance:

Isn't it nice how they swirl across his forehead?

I'm going to Chicago this weekend, Reader. I won't be back until Wednesday. In the meantime, please enjoy this triumvirate of pastes from my bathroom:

The middle tube works the best.

Favorites

Someone needs a reminder.

Yesterday my favorite person threatened to beat up a seven-year-old. It was because she gave me this:

It's hard being the favorite person of two people. There are duties. Obligations. Soothing things to be said to both parties.

Fights to be broken up.

So let me confirm it again. In technicolor.

Reader: why not print this simple statement out for your favorite person? I think I might, once I decide whether I like it better in color or black-and-white.

Yes, do!

Banana pact

Long ago my brother and sister formed a pact which forbade them ever to utter the word banana again.

"Oksana, would you like a banana?"
"You mean a curved yellow fruit? Yes."

I hope you like them ever so ripe.