neola: 41/1000

that seafoam green gem from repeat street that hollers "afternoon cocktails at the club circa 1967." it happily came home with me and will be worn with love.

neola: 40/1000

the $2 paper parasol that traveled through ten states with me and now sits in a quiet sunlit corner.

neola: 39/1000

neighbors who steal blooming azaleas on Oakwood.

neola: 38/1000

remembering reading The Master Butchers' Singing Club before bed in Portland.

neola: 37/1000

PBR birthdays with birds and bees.

neola: 36/1000

March in Mississippi.

neola: 35/1000

boys with freckles.