Chowder and cool air on the coast of Maine. Hit the road, summer.
For how much that’s changed since these leaves last turned yellow, this all feels wonderfully familiar.
Me at work with a sad, teething baby.
These little dimpled hands love most the pendant containing a dandelion seed from where my husband asked me to marry him in Ireland. ❤️🍀
My mom and dad’s front porch and my sweet Esme, still looking so little sometimes.
It’s a chronicle of visits to Poe sites and artifacts on the East Coast and across the ocean and meeting those responsible for maintaining his physical legacy. A little more about it here: http://www.oddthingsiveseen.com/2014/03/poe-land-if-you-purchased-this-book.html
My husband spent the last year writing a book about Poe and today an advance copy showed up from his publisher. I am so excited and proud of his work but in the spirit of Poe will use not one exclamation point. Farewell.
The camera that took baby pictures of my husband still works like a charm and black & white film is still cheap as ever. What’s not to love.
Thankfully her broken hearts don’t last for long.
"I’m glad we’re here together" she says. To me, not her horse. I’m almost positive.
A little help from big sister.
So giddy when her daddy’s done working.
We’re walled-in by roses. Aren’t they pretty? Wouldn’t you want to live here? Please somebody buy our house. It’s really such a fine little house.
Oh the irony of a photographer’s daughter resting casually in a basket of soft blankets. Ghosts of cheesy photo props of my past will haunt me all my days, I fear.