This layout was handmade with love by the folks at My space or yours? Go get one!
susie. wife. charlotte's mom. tessie to some. jess sometimes. jessie to most. marfan.
post office boxes, bike cruises, koozies, lemonade and iced tea, knitting, sewing, chai tea, fresh fruit, laundry, our boat: 1964 chris craft cabin cruiser, our 1968 mustang, couches that recline, my handmade boston red sox quilt from my mother in law, my macbook, living in a small town, homies, hardwood floors, adobe houses, metal roofs, farmer's markets, the sunroof in my volvo station wagon, green grass, email, fresh flowers, stars out here in west texas, visitors, baby smells, baby smiles, seventh generation diapers, baby coos, seeing daniel be a papa, watching charlotte grow up so fast already!
people who understand the good things in life like... honesty, integrity, homemade, quality, slowing down, good eye contact, vinyl records, handmade, fresh food, family, small towns. our new neighbors in marfa.
if you're going to play the game boy, you gotta learn to play it right. you gotta know when to hold em. know when to fold em. know when to walk away. know when to run. you never count your money when you're sitting at the table. there'll be time enough for counting when the dealing's done..... every hand's a winner and every hand's a loser and the best that you can hope for is to die in your sleep.
Walter Sobchak: I told those fucks down at the league office a thousand times that I don't roll on Shabbos! Donny: What's Shabbos? Walter Sobchak: Saturday, Donny, is Shabbos, the Jewish day of rest. That means that I don't work, I don't get in a car, I don't fucking ride in a car, I don't pick up the phone, I don't turn on the oven, and I sure as shit [shouts] Walter Sobchak: don't fucking roll! Shomer shabbos! The Dude: Walter... Walter Sobchak: Shomer fucking shabbos. The Dude: Oh fuck it.
Carrie: Your girl is lovely, Hubbell. Mr. Big: I don't get it. Carrie: And you never did.
'the mount tom and holyoke ranges arise just beyond the southern border of the town. the connecticut cuts a gap between them. they aren't really mountains, just a line of steep green hills. but in tommy's windshield, they always looked more distant and much taller than they are. they looked grand and not quite real. they looked like northampton's painted backdrop, and they gave him both a faraway and a comforting feeling. they made northampton seem like places that he'd never seen, and yet defined the cozy scale of a place he knew by heart- miniature mountains for the miniature city that lay before him down main street.' hometown ~tracy kidder