Got brass in pocket

My mom was in town this weekend.



We had a really nice time, just the three of us.



We drove in to Yellowstone and saw a bunch of critters. Coyotes, elk, bison, eagles, humans.





Thermal features.



My mom had a realization that we were hanging out inside the caldera of the world's biggest supervolcano. She freaked a bit, but then decided, "If it's gonna blow, we might as well be here at the epicenter."



Had lunch at Old Faithful and watched it do what it does every 90 minutes or so.



This afternoon, I sat on the back deck with my mom.



I played some Beatles songs on the guitar; we talked about life and various and sundry other things.



/mom and diary style blogging.



Everybody tries to console the lonely soul.



Double track that.





Haven't seen the sun in weeks.



There is a constant buzzing in my ears.



Turned around upside down and, frankly, weird.



The gravity is driving me to tears.



Kris, I hope you like this.



These are random words strung together in a stream of consciousness writing exercise. Just say the first thing that comes to you mind.



Sex?



Or was it midgets? (And, what's the difference, when you really think about it?)



I have a huge backlog of pictures and video, but I really don't want to share that much of my life with strangers on the internet any more. And non-strange people, for that matter.



Unstrangers. The disenstrangled.










Who blogs anymore anyway?