where i wish i was today

holy manure

You know that exchange when someone says, "God! this smells awful — smell it!" And then you feel compelled to smell it, not because you'll enjoy it but just because you have to know for yourself, just how bad is it?

Well, I imagine that's what everyone in Winchester, Indiana is thinking:

Giant Gas Bubbles in Indiana Dairy Farm's Waste Pond Frighten Neighbors

a poem a day

The best five minutes of my morning commute: the Writer's Almanac on NPR. It usually airs between 9:05 and 9:10, when I'm usually driving into work (late, because I have an abusive relationship with my snooze button).

Garrison Keillor has a voice so regal, I'm convinced he could read the ingredients off the side of a Cheez-It box aloud and they'd sound like priceless verse.

I love this poem from last week, as Ryan and I have spent countless hours pouring through glossy magazines and window shopping since we moved into our house in September. It's good to pause and remember that "we already have everything."