This picture looks like it should be part of a real estate ad for a loft with a price approaching seven figures. “Lots of original charm! Plenty of evidence of this commanding space’s former life as a vibrant neighborhood hangout! Eclectic!” But of course it’s just the emptied-out upstairs of the former Bauhaus space. Even so, I kind of want to put my swank queen mattress here and have an unparalled life of bohemian beauty. Continue reading
I experienced sadness at the Depressed Cake Shop of Seattle. A mere four minutes before I arrived, my friend witnessed the announcement that there were no more grey cakes or pies or anything to be had. Cheers to the fundraiser; alas for the rest of us.
I discovered there is a second piggy bank at Pike Place Market. Billie, Rachel‘s more retiring younger sister, sits at a back entrance of the market. She is also pleased to take your spare change.
She’s harder to sit on for pictures, though, as I watched an 11-year-old girl discover as she slid down the back, clutching desperately but futilely to Billie’s back.
I saw some Pike Market art I’d never witnessed. It pleases me that this is still possible. I attribute it to the magic of wandering Pike Market with someone who doesn’t live here. It’s like the Room of Requirement, but with public art.
And this is what it looked like on that last night:
Not pictured: several hours of reading for school; a fine siesta; being in bed with cats; the midnight toast n’ eggs meal I made to settle my coffee-roiled belly.