gracias

My whole family is thankful my dad is alive one year after having grueling experimental surgery. Last year's Thanksgiving was a zombie show. This year everyone was cheery and being their funny selves while my dad ran circles around us, building fires, eating like a champ, and watching football—he even went to a Northwestern football game. He also pretty much threw a pick on me and stole my breakfast when he mistook a dish of oatmeal for stuffing.

My mom and I took a long walk and passed by the zoo where some wolves were singing their song.

Later my mom encouraged me to go through some file boxes. I did a half-baked job of refining the metamorphic pile of binders, papers, and programs, and a bang-up job of photographing some greatest archival hits.

A selection of reading material:

A still life:

And a few highlights from my eraser collection:

Tip of the iceberg. My poor parents. Housing all this crap for their adult daughter. I am thankful for their lenient storage policies. And for patiently encouraging me to travel to the beat of a different drum.