Treehorn went down for breakfast

and started to read the new cereal box. It said you could send for a hundred balloons. His mother was cleaning the living room. She came into the kitchen to get a dust rag.
"Don't put your elbows on the table while you're eating, dear," she said.

"Look," said Treehorn. "I'm my own size now. My own regular size."

"That's nice, dear," said Treehorn's mother. "It's a very nice size, I'm sure, and if I were you I wouldn't shrink anymore. Be sure to tell you father when he comes home tonight. He'll be so pleased." She went back to the living room and started to dust and vacuum.

The Shrinking of Treehorn

image: here


i have come
to the conclusion that

whatever our goodwill,

love depends
upon wisdom

a sunday on la grande jatte




speaking of chairs, sir

this was one of the first
on the blog & long since
a favorite.
taken while
running through
Weimar; thinking then,
as now, that there was
to this corner than
could be known.
forlorn, now, but with
some easy still grace.

elegant in it's age.