l'automne.

public service announcement.

You have exactly nine days left to get yourself to the freezer aisle and cry into your last ever bowl of Häagen-Dazs coconut macaroon ice cream before it disappears forever and we are left to only wistful reminiscing (is that redundant?) about way back in the day when  there was that one glorious summer of the very nearest thing to perfection you've ever known and your mum joked about actually buying an extra freezer where we would keep in the garage pint after pint of this perfect stuff, pint after pint long after the limited edition had run its beautiful run, unless of course our campaign was successful, our campaign to eliminate the limited edition lid entirely, which we talked about sometimes mostly seriously but summer was so full of so very many other things and then suddenly it was September and time was too far gone and so instead we have measured these first days of fall in ice cream scoops (apologies to Eliot) and today I drew a picture because just because and why not and now you know and if you haven't known, hurry fix it because I am telling you that sometimes actually you can buy happiness, and for the next nine days it will cost you only $4.69.

you're welcome.

Yes! It's true! As of right-now-this-minute-these-words my pint-sized place on the interwebs is one hundred and eleven posts old. Cool! You say. Fantastic! And also Why does this matter? Well, here are some things:

→ One is my lucky number and eleven is my favorite double digit, so I figure three of them right in a row is something extra spectacular. 

→ I generally operate under the idea that any opportunity to reference Lord of the Rings is an opportunity well-taken. 

→  There are few things happier than finding your postbox home to actual post or, as we would say around here, rill mell. 

→ I have this hereditary habit of buying postcards from absolutely wherever I go because a) my mum started it and b) I am enamored of the bite-sized-correspondence culture and c) mostly it's just the best way to pretend you own a Van Gogh, at least until you're rich enough to buy up the Met entirely. But to be honest my collection is getting totally out of hand, and I should really do something about it.

So if you've made it this far and even managed to connect the dots, you'll know that to celebrate this obvious milestone I'm going to send you a postcard! Well, only if you'd like—but I promise it'll be a pretty one and even say some nice things on it, too. Basically what will happen is that you email me your address, I'll pull a postcard from my collection, add a few colors and contours myself (this will maybe involve glitter), send it off to you, and voila! Your postbox is proud home to actual post and the world is all the happier for it. Sound like something you could get behind? Excellent! Let's recap:

Please send all postcard requests with the subject "111th," and know that eleventy-one posts is too short a time to write and read and wander among such excellent and admirable people such as yourselves. I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, but it means whole worlds and miniature galaxies to me that you would stop in so frequently no matter how sporadic my actual blogging tends to be. Thank you very much for coming to my little party; I do hope you'll stay awhile.