Last day at market, my feet are dead and my bottom is half frozen but I had a good time overall.
The honeycomb texture from last month became ice cream flower vases. You get the vision. Ta da~

I think of my poor Roberto and Matilda (the crows), who must be so confused in my absence. “Where is peanut girl?” they wonder. “Did she move on to bigger, shinier birds?”
I bet this is how alliances fall apart. Roberto, I can explain.

Woe unto she who forgetteth the morning peanut. - Corvidians 1:3

And the bird said unto peanut girl, thou art on thin ice. - Roberto 1:1