I'm in love with the Man in the Moon
The moon looked pretty damn full last Tuesday night when my brother-in-law brought over the whoopie pie my sister made. The whoopie pie was also full of deliciousness and when I gave it my attention, I ingested it pretty quickly. Before I put that tasty thing into my gob, I went outside to get a picture of the moon. I live in a city. It wasn't like in Bremerton, Washington, standing by the harbor where there are many charming boats and not a lot of lights and you can get a good shot of the orb without a lot of city-light distractions. Chicago is a city that likes its streetlights -- I am pretty fond of them myself -- and I went outside and stood pretty much underneath one so I could get the moon and not trees. (Chicago also has lots of trees.) I managed to keep still and my new love, the Man in the Moon, made my evening. Is my new love sticking his tongue out at me?