Engrossed in poetry on a Capitol Hill Saturday, at Seattle’s still-best bookshop.
Cosy as all.
Husband sneak-snap whilst getting our nap on.
The teatime bird gets the worm.
In their first trip into the wild front yard, teaching the chicks to free-range scratch and forage.
Sláinte!
Clan Collins, the stouthearted goofballs of Munster.
Chick street gang.
Fierce, fluffy, eyeliner on fleek.
Selfius interruptus.
Honestly, this asshole.
For love of a Saturday cider.
Rainy-day reading and sipping at my local.
These charming men.
The house’s resident XYs share a lazy, hairy Sunday.
Woke up to this.
Apparently it’s ’70s Stache Day at school?
How we do.
Just us humans here, Netflix and chillin’, nothing to see.