We all fall down/Like toy soldiers

by Amy Turn Sharp


We have run out of Starbucks cards. Joe cashes in his business rewards for gift cards that are among my most precious items. We have also run out of the instant British coffee otherwise known as Starbucks methadone. We now have to drag the old crusty drip pot out from under the kitchen sink, the one that doesn't work properly.(The one that makes coffee taste a bit "off".)
I try and think back to the old days before Cafe Verona brewed by a machine that costs more than my car by a boy more hip than I will ever be. I try and channel Ma Ingalls as she runs her hand across the coffee canister in her log cabin. It probably was just hot water and coffee and it was so good and she probably had 5 pounds to last the long winter.

Brighter thoughts...I ripped this idea out of a mag at the Dr.'s office ( I am aware that I am terrible!!!!) and we made some VDAY prints this morning.
Love it! I am just encountering the people drawing skills of a preschooler.
I love how bodies have very strange proportion's.
I love the limbs and the circle feet.
I love that he draws me incredibly slim and with long long legs.
I just love it.