Teeny tiny Chicago skyline to the left. Steel mills to the right. Lake Michigan to the north and squeaky dunes, the shore. We weren't the kind of teenagers that went to water parks or rode rollercoasters. Instead, we looked for ghosts in cornfields and gypsy graveyards. In this TBTPS edition, I've drawn the time we went to the dunes after dark and found ourselves scared shitless by the spirit we called upon. There were hills hidden behind hills and that is where we built our small fire after lugging our heavy teen shoes and Manischewitz blackberry wine. One of us called upon the legendary resident ghost of Indiana Dunes, Diana. To our surprise, as he beckoned her to our space, the fire crackled, sparked and rose up five feet. He called her name out again, "Diana! Diana of the Dunes! You are welcome here, with us!" And it happened again. Ten times over. Our cheeks were young and warm and naive. Was it really her? Who knows. Who cares. Our young mouths shut up for a few minutes and instead of being full of frustration and the sufferings of our youth we had a few damn good moments of being in awe. Way better than a roller coaster and way better than real life.
New drool bibs for your gross and drooly baby! Three new, soft and super absorbent and super duper cute designs. Hand-sewn flannel of nearsighted zebras, screaming cats and a plain blue gray blue for your neutral days. All three designs here for $25.oo. You must and will check them out.
Lastly! DAYFPP! This week's contestant winner is Lucida Whisk (HMN). Congratulate her. I hope she likes it.