The unkindest cut of all--the trash container. This, on the other hand, is quite splendid in its evocation of an Annie Proulx-like landscape of being out there against the elements, alone except for some horses and chickens and maybe a milk cow.
What an ironic pull of nostalgia for this city boy who scarcely knows how to feed much less milk a cow.
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Something particularly desolate about this.
The unkindest cut of all--the trash container. This, on the other hand, is quite splendid in its evocation of an Annie Proulx-like landscape of being out there against the elements, alone except for some horses and chickens and maybe a milk cow.
What an ironic pull of nostalgia for this city boy who scarcely knows how to feed much less milk a cow.
Glad you're back on the job, staples and all.
I'd say that Lori specializes in desolation, Texas-style.
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