Beach Blanket Bingo?

Hardly. Mrs. Scribe is definitely NOT a Weather Dude (known in the parlance of the Boob Tube as a "meteorologist"), but she could've predicted this one. All the so-called "experts" called for 2-4 inches in the DC Metro area. Well, an "advisory" had turned to a "warning" by noon & as the sun set, 9 inches were on the ground, with a sheet of ice underneath that, making her commute to Starbux decidedly dicey, at best.

You Silly Sunday Sweepstakes participants know what to do, correctamundo? Take a gander at this Superior Snap, shot on my screened porch Sunday afternoon. Conjur a caption for said snap & tippy-type it, real quick-like, in the comments section of this post.

And that's all there is to it, Scribe Fans! You'll win nothing tangible for all your toil & trouble, but you should feel magnificent after giving all of us a good giggle. And what could be better than that?

The Saturday Sphinx

We're expecting another "snow event" today.

Hope it's not as bad as the Blizzard of '09. No matter. I'll be curled up on the couch in front of a roaring fire with my friend Pepper, The Saturday Sphinx.

These 6 words brought to you by Cate at Show My Face. It's 6-Word Saturday, you know. And Pepper? Well, she's appearing today courtesy of Camera Critters.

Beyond the Outer Limits

Do y'all see the irony in this? This is how I feel today, minus the bikini. So at the end of my rope that I just want to keep walking. Beyond the sign, thru the surf, 'til I run out of golden sand beach.

I feel a bitch coming on. Call it the End of the Semester Blues, if you will. In the past week, I have:

• Seen more crap than a livestock arena on 2-for-1 Friday (Note to self: No more "analysis" papers on The Great Gatsby. Over-analyzed. All over the Web. Situation ripe for cheaters & lazy, wannabe romantics)
• Administered way too many end-of-semester exercises. If I never see another vocab quiz, it will be too soon. No one knows~nor cares~the meaning of SAT words such as propinquity anyway, do they?
• Caught one student plagiarizing. She didn't even try to disguise her ruse. Lifted it right off the Internet. Really badly written, too, bordering on crappy sap (see Bullet Number 1).
• Caught two other students returning from a Bagel Bakery run. We're a closed campus. I'm required to bust them. Ruined their 4-day weekend (administrative referral, e-mails to angry parentals) & made me feel small.
• Caught yet another student with her sassy, disrespectful mouth open. Wanted to slap that smart-ass grin right off her face. But I didn't. I value job security, such as it is.
• Fielded a continuing flood of e-mails from concerned parentals, worried that Little Susie doesn't quite "get" English. Well, if she'd stop watching "Jersey Shore" on the Journalism Room computers, and would start doing her assignments, things would go a lot more smoothly, correctamundo?
• Read a Gatsby paper written by a 16-year-old boy that featured the word iridescent. In the first paragraph (See Bullets 1 & 3). The First Sentence. Iridescent. Jeesh!
• Hosted "make-up" parties in my room after school all week. Well, they weren't really soirées, per se. More like wakes (Note to self: Remember to tell the cherubs that if they skip on a test day, Mrs. Scribe will decidedly not be available for after-school help).
• Shoved a badly written, terribly edited Yearbook deadline out the door. Oh, well.
• Made plans to go to FLA for Spring Break with my youngest. Yes, there is a God. Somewhere.

Four months down; four more to go. I can do this. I just have to learn to set limits, oui?

Mission Impossible

After the Storm

I woke up yesterday morning to howling winds & driving rain. Oh, and of course, the kicker...5 minutes after hitting the ground running, the power went out.

As Mr. Fairway & I grabbed flashlights & lit candles (yes, we had several of each handy...go figure!), I had the strangest sensation. Felt as if I were in the middle of a summer thunderstorm. A cool front apparently triggered a warm front, resulting in winds in excess of 50 mph, temps close to 70 degrees & thunderboomers crashing overhead.

I've never~ever, in my pea-pickin' life~had to take a shower & get ready for work in the quasi-dark. The eerieness was accented by the flashlight beam that reflected thru the shower curtain & the flickering candles standing watch on the toilet tank.

Spent most of the day feeling "un-put together," as my Mom, Baba, would have said. When I left work yesterday (no late hours for moi~I was out by the door by 4 p.m.!), temps still hovered around 50-ish & the sun poked thru fair-weather cumulus.

An out-of-body experience, I'd say. Focused, in the snap above, on the raindrops pelting my classroom windows, to preserve the effect.

I Need a Sugar Daddy...

Mr. Fairway ordered pizza. He popped the top off a beer & dialed up the NFC playoff game. I cracked open my bag & pulled out 58 Great Gatsby analysis essays.

Blame me for being a halfway decent teacher. Some of my English Department colleagues float through the year on worksheets & movies. Heck, some of them assign papers & never grade them.

True story: One year Our Humble High School hired a dynamic young English teacher. He was intelligent, charming, funny. When he left at the end of the year, he left 5 filing cabinet drawers full of ungraded student papers behind.

I prefer to go Old School on my cherubs. I assign a lot of written work. In the space of a week, the kiddos in my English classes might have a research essay, a timed essay in class & a set of journal entries.

Which means, if I want to teach them anything, that I have to grade. The assignments don't mean anything if the students don't get feedback.

I'm paid for a 7.5-hour day, 5 days a week. But between my Yearbook, Newspaper & English classroom duties, I do a lot of labor "off the clock," as they say. I put in 60+ hours some weeks.

Not that I don't enjoy my work. The thing is, though, I don't get paid for all that I do.

So, consider this a want ad, of sorts.

ISO A SUGAR DADDY (OR MAMA), TO SUPPORT A BUDDING BLOGGER. EXCELLENT WRITING SKILLS, TOP-NOTCH SENSE OF HUMOR, REALISTIC OUTLOOK ON LIFE. CAN & WILL WRITE ANY KIND OF CONTENT, AS LONG AS IT'S CLEAN. WILL EVEN TWEAK TWITTER, IF THE JOB REQUIREMENTS NECESSITATE. LOOKING TO MAKE CAREER CHANGE ANYTIME YOU'RE READY.

I love my cherubs, I really do. I even love my job. But I know there's a spot out there somewhere for me in the Blogosphere. I'm not looking to take The Pioneer Woman's place. Everybody knows how I feel about her, anyway. I'm just looking for a chance to strut my stuff; to scribble for a sheckle or 2; to get out from under the mound of papers that's stifling my creative spirit.

Not asking for much, y'all. Just give me a chance. You won't regret it. I promise.

I'm Melting...

My SIL snapped this last weekend. Even in Wisconsin, temps are on the rise. I'm sure we'll all be back in the deep-freeze soon, but we should enjoy the mild weather while it lasts, correctamundo?

You Silly Sunday Sweepstakers know what to do, right? Take a gander at this Superior Snap. Then conjur a caption for said snap & tippy-type it, real quick-like, in the comments section of this post.

That's all there is to it, Scribe Fans! You'll win nothing tangible for your time & trouble. Just the knowledge that you've made a whole gaggle of us smile. And what could be better than that?

Saturday School

Had to come to school today.

So sorry for my delay in posting today. I've been at school since 8:30 this a.m. Yearbook deadline, don'tcha know. Couldn't pass up this chance to whine for Cate, at Show My Face. It's 6-Word Saturday today!

Mrs. Scribe Reviews: The Body Scoop for Girls

We ladies have seen it; we've even experienced it. I witness it all the time, especially when I take my cherubs overnight on a school field trip.

The journalistas & I will be hanging at a Bennigan's or Ruby Tuesday's; one of those ubiquitous joints where we can do the burger janx for mucho más less dinero.

Everyone orders. Everyone appears to be famished

The food comes. The boys wolf theirs down in seconds flat. The girls pick. And pick. And pick some more, moving bits of comestibles around on their plates.

"Are you gonna finish that?"

A perennial boy question. I've never heard a girl ask it.

The Body Scoop for Girls, by Dr. Jennifer Ashton, addresses this cultural phenomenon, among others. The subtitle just about sums it up: "A Straight-Talk Guide to a Healthy, Beautiful You."

Ashton, an Ob-Gyn who also works as a CBS correspondent and whose specialty is adolescent care, has written a book that runs the gamut on teenage girls, from eating, to development to personal hygiene. She even addresses piercings. In fact, the only girl-related topic she doesn't seem to cover in this direct, comprehensive primer is tatoos.

This guide is a roadmap, of sorts, which can help teenage girls and their parents puzzle out the highs and the lows of growing up.

Ashton's frank diction and straight-up tone cover the things we all tend to talk about (one of my favorite chapters is entitled "Beauty and the Breast") and those that we prefer to whisper about (Bottom line? If you don't want to get an STD, use a condom). Her advice is easy to understand and accessible to even the most reticent reader.

All you Moms out there will appreciate Ashton's open approach to those years that seem to linger, between the ages of 12 and 22. If you're having trouble talking to your daughter, The Body Scoop on Girls is a conversation-starter and a wonderful way to negotiate the do's and don'ts of these turbulent times together.

BTW: The young women in the Superior Snap above successfully weathered their teens, and their mothers are no worse for wear because of it. In fact, the only thing we really had to worry about last year was the Spring Break Trip to Panama City Beach, FLA. Mission accomplished!

The Little Mermaid

10 Things to Do to Stave Off Boredom
Writer's Workshop: Prompt #3

1. Guilt your kid into calling...2. Tweet about Brett Favre's awesomeness...3. Find a creative way to donate to Haiti...4. Stretch out in the sun...5. Play in the snow...6. Lug snow around in your pickup truck...7. Send positive vibes to your friend in Northern Iraq...8. Fork over 300 bucks & 3+ hours to the DMV...9. Attempt to Get Fit for the New Year...10. Take an underwater snap of your Little Mermaid...

Winter Cargo

A Mother's Love

Dear Ella Numera Dos,

I understand you wish to be independent. Perhaps that's why you call so infrequently.

I understand you're a busy, busy college student. And that's why I don't hear from you as much as I used to.

I understand that you're not your Sister & that you're more like your Dad. Scandinavians are inner-self dwellers & emote infrequently. I get that, even though my kin hails from the Mediterannean & yacks all the time.

I understand that you're upset with your shoulder, that you wish you could get back in the pool, that Conference is coming up & you'll be on the deck managing & not making waves in the finals. I also hope this frustration isn't because I wanted you to swim, but because you want to be there your own self.

I understand that friends can't always be friends. That sometimes you just have to step away, and let them take the path they've chosen for themselves.

But I know a few things, too.

I know that you're a sweet, loving kid, even when you don't always show it.

I know that you're a talented, gifted artist. I see it every time you pick up a camera.

I know that you're a good friend & that you'll always be there for your amigos, even though they're not always there for you.

I know that you're a smarty pants & think you know everything. You get that from me. And you're right about that.

I know that I love you, even when you don't call. But I wish you would. Even just to say "Hi."

Oh, and a couple of other things.

I thought of you yesterday when I went for my walk, Outkast blaring "Hey Ya!" from my iPod. I think that's from your playlist, correctamundo? And I know you would've been pretty freaked out when I started Shakin' Like a Polaroid Picture, right out there, in public.

I save all your text messages. The ones that say "I Love You." I almost murdilized the Verizon Guy when I switched phones & he erased your text from the Spice Girls Concert. "I Love You Mama," was what it said, I think.

I wince quite a bit when you get a tatoo, but I understand why.

I just know you'll make it big someday, in anything you do. Dad & I are behind you, one hundred & ten percent!

I've been feeding Patchy a little extra every day. And guarding her dish, so Pepper won't get any fatter than she already is.

Just thought you should know that I love you more than words could ever say,

Moms

PS: I renewed your Netflix account yesterday. Thought that would make you smile.

It's Complicated

My apologies to Nancy Meyers, Meryl Streep, et al. No, I'm not trying to optimize my SEO, nor do I wish to goose my stats in Google Analytics. I just want to explain why I might have inflamed some passions on Twitter yesterday.

First of all, re: that Twitter reference. Yes, I'm on Twitter. MrsScribe is my handle; please follow me.

Now that I've got that out of the way, let me say that I've been a Tweeter (Twitterer? Twit?) for several months. But it's taken me that long to "get" it. But this past weekend's NFL playoffs solidified the Meaning of Twitter for moi.

Secondly, my apologies to Susan, over at My 2 Boyz. She's a Cheesehead from Sheboygan, WI. For those of you who aren't clued in, that means Susan & her fellow Sheboyganites are ardent Green Bay Packers fans. As well they should be. I'm a Packer-Backer, myself.

Susan Tweeted fervently this past weeked, and last, as well. A whole week ago, she urged her beloved Pack to pull one out over the Arizona Cardinals. I was with her all the way on that. Yesterday, however, Susan's path diverged from mine. She Tweeted (Twittered? Twitted?) in favor of America's (alleged) Team, the Dallas Cowboys. See, the Cowpokes shot it out with the Minnesota Vikings in an NFC matchup.

And everyone knows that died-in-the wool Packermaniacs such as Susan hate~detest, abhor~those dern Minnesota Vikings.

Everyone in Packerland, that is, except for moi, & a whole herd of fellow Brett Favre fans.

I'm one of the few~the proud?~Packers Fans who have stuck by Brett since he parted ways with The Pack 2 seasons ago. Without going into all the details (it's complicated, remember?), I took Brett's side in the dispute with Packers' management. And I bought his jersey when he became a New York Jet. The only reason I don't have a Vikings jersey with Number 4's name emblazoned on the back is because Mr. Fairway~who was born a Packers Fan & would rather die today than ever root for the Vikings~probably would divorce (or kill) me if I brought anything that color purple into the house.

But I digress. This post was supposed to be about Twitter. And Tweeting. Remember?

I had fun Twitting Susan for supporting Big D yesterday. I'll have a great deal of fun Tweeting about Ol' Number 4 when he faces NOLA next Sunday. And as much as I love New Orleans, I know in my heart-of-hearts Who Dat Be Gonna Beat Dem Saints.

My Peeps say I'm a Fair-Weather Fan. I prefer to refer to myself as a Favre-Weather Fan. And I'll be rooting for him again next Sunday, even if it means that Mr. Fairway might force me to sleep in the dog house. That's metaphorical, don'tcha know. High School English Teacher & all that janx.

I'm a native Dallasite, you see. A converted Cowboys fan (I told you it was complicated! ). When Jessica Simpson dated Tony Romo, I understood the significance of that union more than most. She's from Dallas; he's from Wisconsin. Ironic? No, but darned coincidental...

And when they broke up, I took the dissolution of the relationship as a bad sign for Big D.

Don't cry for me, Tony Romo. You dumped your GF the day before her birthday. And Brett Favre dumped you yesterday. In fact, the Vikes knocked your beady little eyes right out of your head.

One more thing...in the wake of the Jets win over San Diego, I guess I'll be wearing that #4 Brett Favre Jets jersey to Our Humble High School tomorrow. And reveling in the irony of that as well, sports fans!

So, until we meet again...I'll see y'all on Twitter next Sunday, hear?

Pat Robertson-Word Vomit Extraordinaire

I've been in a funk all week. Haiti weighs heavily upon my mind.

But just as Mark Twain found funny in poor Jim's misfortune & Jon Stewart finally found the ironic side of 9/11, I now have something to smile about.

Check out the Pat Robertson Voodoo Doll, up for grabs on eBay.

"After an exclusive deal with devil," says creator johnnyvoodoo on his bid site, "we are finally able to bring black magic into your very own home! The lucky winner of this auction will attain the soul of Televangelist PAT ROBERTSON in a handheld figurine comprised of the finest straw, cloth, and other organic natural materials!"

Robertson, natch, is the nut case who hails from my state. He's the "spiritual adviser" to my new governor. And he's also the one who has perennial Hoof-in-Mouth disease. He said the following on his allegedly "Christian" broadcast last week:

"They [the Haitians] were under the heel of the French. You know, Napoleon III, or whatever. And they got together and swore a pact to the devil. They said, we will serve you if you'll get us free from the French. True story. And so, the devil said, okay it's a deal."

In other words, the Haitians hated their rulers, back in the day. Voodoo somehow came out of that. So they-I'm not making this up, Robertson implied it-deserved what they got last Tuesday.

What a moron. And what an evil, effing, un-Christian-like piece of word vomit. I'm outraged. But johnnyvoodoo turned the tables on the stupid jerk. And 100% of the winning bid for johnny's Pat Robertson Voodoo Doll goes to the American Red Cross, which is helping with Haitian relief efforts.

This superb satirical jab comes with a wonderful poke (get it?) at what makes Robertson tick & why I'm so perturbed with him

"Ever wanted to cause Pat Robertson a massive headache? Give him back pain? Jab him in the crotch? Of course you have! Well then BID NOW to own your very own physical representation of the dark, dark soul of Pat Robertson."

Robertson, of course, is the one who also linked Hurricane Katrina & terrorist attacks to legalized abortion. So much for separation of Church & State. And brain from intelligence.

No joke. But this man certainly is. Maybe whoever buys the Pat Robertson Voodoo Doll will stick a pin in Robertson's heart. But I'm not sure it would hurt him, 'cause I'm not sure he's alive.

This rant is brought to you by The Scholastic Scribe's Silly Sunday Sweepstakes. There's still time to conjure a caption for this Superior Snap. And to bid on the Voodoo Doll. Bidding is open until Tuesday the 26th at 11 p.m. PST. Good luck!

Sunny Day

Phil won't see his shadow, correctamundo?

Pepper the cat certainly has been enjoying the more than temperate weather we've been having the last couple of days. I think temps even climbed into the 50s yesterday. Ay, Caramba!

Here's hoping that Punxsutawney Phil doesn't see his shadow in a couple of weeks. Don't need 6 more weeks of winter, fo' shizzle!

Pepper & my prognostications brought to you today by 2 friends: Cate's 6-Word Saturday & Weekend Reflections.

School's Out

For the first time in 45 years, the University of Wisconsin-Madison canceled a full day of classes because of a mid-December blizzard. The students' response? Have a massive snowball fight, of course. Some observers pegged the number of fight participants at 3,500, although more than 5,000 had joined a Facebook group to take part.

This Superior SkyWatch Friday snap is brought to you courtesy

of Ella Numera Una, a UW-Madison law student.

Save the Children

Superior Snap shot by Jan Sochor in Haiti

My latest complaint? People don't care enough, they don't do enough. Here, in the wake of a natural disaster so severe that I can't wrap my brain around it, is contact info so you can get involved:

International Committee of the Red Cross

Yele Haiti Earthquake Fund

William Jefferson Clinton Foundation (links to several Haiti reflief efforts)

Doctors Without Borders

Mobile Giving Foundation (cellphone donations for Haiti)

My contribution to today's Writer's Workshop Prompt #1: What is your latest complaint?

All I Want for Christmas...

Economic Stimulus Package

Dear President Obama:

We Americans are suffering; that's a fact. But I have a solution to our economic woes. And it has nothing to do with the wars in Iraq & Afghanistan, nor health care reform. All it involves is a trip to the friendly neighborhood DMV.

I recently made a significant contribution to reducing the Federal Deficit & it all started with a $40 ticket.

OK, I'm coming clean here. Guilty as charged, Your Honor (BTW, is it OK to call the President "Your Honor"?). I committed a minor infraction on a neighborhood by-way & I totally understand my obligation as a U.S. citizen to pay the commensurate fine.

But don't tell me that I have to pony up $65 in court costs, on top of the $40 ticket, even if I just want to mail in a check. And then don't tell me that I didn't pay on time, charging me another 10 bucks in the process. And when those bean-counters down at the courthouse can't find my check, don't gavel my case closed by suspending my license & telling me I have to pay additional court costs, plus a hefty sum to the DMV to get my license reinstated.

Listen, I'm a hardworking public servant. I (generally) obey (most) of our (patently ridiculous) traffic laws. Especially the one that states I'm not allowed to cut through a neighborhood near the country club after 6:30 in the morning, because all those rich old ladies in their puce (pronounced "puese," a reddish-purplish-brownish color that looks as if grandma lost her cookies after eating blueberry pie) velour warmups need to get their beauty rest.

And besides, my dashboard clock said it was 6:28 a.m. when I took that shortcut. The (stupid, fat) officer (donut hole) wrote 6:38 a.m. on my ticket. I can't help it if he can't see his watch out of those corpulent slits he calls eyes.

But I digress. I ended up paying my debt to society. I plunked down the $40, plus the $65, plus the extra 10 bucks, plus another $40 to clear my good name. And then I had to wait 2 hours in line in 20-degree weather on a Saturday morning, plus another hour or so inside the welcoming (hellish) womb of my local DMV. And then, when my lucky number was called, I had the privilege of forking over another 85 bucks to get my (damn) license reinstated. In addition, I had the pleasure of posing for another one of those très fetch snaps that adorn our newly minted, (allegedly) terrorism-proof state driver's licenses.

So here's my idea. By my calculations, hundreds, if not thousands, if not tens of thousands, of good, hard-working Americans just like moi break traffic laws daily. Handle these cases in a similar fashion to the way I was treated & you'll have that trillion-dollar deficit under control in no time!

Yes, I snapped the shot above after my ordeal had come to a conclusion. And no, I can't account for the row of empty chairs at the back of the room. I can surmise, though. They're probably waiting for suckers like me to take a seat.

Here's hoping you & Michelle & the kids are doing well,

Mrs. Scribe

If George Costanza Can Do It...

First off, I think the Superior Snap above, shot for Baristanet, a Montclair, NJ, site, is apropos not only of our times, but of this time of year. Cruising around cyberspace lately, I've seen that a whole lot of y'all are making big plans to rein in the extra calories before 2010 is too far gone.

Your resolutions, come to find out, coincide with plans made by Jason Alexander, best-known as George on the wildly popular "Seinfeld." Seems he's signed on as a Jenny Craig spokesperson.

"My younger son's nickname for me is 'SFB,' which stands for short, fat, bald," Alexander told People. "I have to get rid of one of them, and I can't do anything about short and bald." It also so happens that the, shall we say, well-rounded actor also just celebrated the half-century mark. Just about the perfect mid-way point for making a weight-loss commitment.

Which is the best possible segue into a little cyber-chat about weight-loss, blogging & motivation, I'd say. Two of my teacher friends, Richie of Bellringers & Joel of So You Want to Teach? have knocked their noggins together and come up with a program~plus a blog to go with it~that is part inspiration & mostly perspiration. Their self-described mission? Their blog, Can Wii Do It, is meant "to conquer that New Year's Resolution nemesis~losing weight."

Joel plans to use Wii Fit to get in shape for 2010. Richie plans to go the "old fashioned" route~exercise & diet. Both are posting about their progress daily. They also want to encourage reader comments & participation in their modest enterprise. And they'd love, Love, LOVE to have guest-posters on their blog, too.

Teachers spend a lot of time~there's not a delicate way to put this~sitting on their bums. Grading, grading & more grading. Plus, we're sucked into the "black hole" of the classroom at 7:30 each a.m. & are lucky to emerge, unscathed, by 3 p.m. Teaching is a heck of an adrenaline rush, but often of the wrong kind, as we spend time prodding, cajoling, intervening & convincing most of the blessed day long.

In short, the teaching profession doesn't leave a lot of time for "me" time. Not to pat myself on the back, but we put so much of ourselves into encouraging others that the well of inspiration has pretty much run dry when it's time to take care of ourselves.

Richie & Joel have come up with a brilliant plan, I think: Use the blogosphere as an intervention, as it were. If we're all in this getting fit janx together, we might as well blog about it, correctamundo? Pat each other on the collective back, share diet & exercise tips, commiserate about the ups & downs on the road to getting healthy.

"I know there are other teachers out there who could use this blog," Richie told me in an e-mail. "It might provide some inspiration. We also want to hear from otherabout their fitness challenges, etc. Sort of a cyber-support group, but fun."

I'm thinking that more than those in the teaching profession could use the cyber-help. So I think y'all all should drop on by Can Wii Do It? today; right now; ahora. It's a way to find out what others are up to at the dawn of this New Year. And also a way to help keep us from raiding the emergency chocolate drawer.

Just remember: If George Costanza can do it, Wii can, too!

Bed Head

I acquired this shot from Mrs. 4444 at Half-Past Kissin' Time. The subject & composition speak volumes to moi. After a week back at the Salt Mines, I feel just about the way this cute guy's hair looks. I'd thought about posting this as a New Year's Day offering, but aren't you glad I saved it for my Silly Sunday Sweepstakes?

You know what to do, correctamundo? Take a gander at this Superior Snap. Then, conjure a caption to go with said snap & tippy-type it real quick-like in the comments section of this post.

And that's all there is to it, Scribe Fans! You won't get anything tangible for all your toil & trouble...just the knowledge that you've made a whole herd of us giggle. And what could be better than that?

Workin' at the Car Wash, Yeah...

Clean

Cleaner

Mo Betta Clean

Cleanest Maximus

Got the winter grit off yesterday.

Snaps and sentiment brought to you by Cate at Show My Face & her 6-Word Saturday!

Gift Basket

I'm not sure when my Superior OBX Snaps will run out, but here's another one. Shot on NC 12 South in the Town of Nags Head. Most of the little gift shops on the beach road are closed for the season, but this particular display window is a gift that keeps on giving, don't you think?