I went to Boston. I found a cake that was six inches tall. They called it "gigantic," but I called it "glorious."
Parks are a vital part of any urban area, and Boston is no exception. The particular park my mother and I stumbled upon has several lovely monuments, and tourists are drawn to these sort of sites, for they provide good pictures. I, however, instinctively found the fungus.
The park was also home to a large number of squirrels and cute little birds. There were so many of the latter, in fact, that wherever they landed looked an awful lot like living, popping popcorn.
As I was taking this photo, I heard someone say, "What are you taking a picture of?" When I looked up to respond, I suddenly realized that I was being addressed by a guy with a microphone on a tour trolley, and I had somehow become the focus of a group of tourists.
I'm still not sure whether I passed for "local photographer" or "fellow tourist."
I've already forgotten what neighborhood this was in, but one thing was for sure: I'd need to win the lottery first.
I call this the Wishbone House. I'm not sure when the missing house met its demise, but its lingering shadow is interesting nonetheless.
This unfortunate sticker was located on the wrong side of a Dunkin Donuts shop. If I always had to look in at the sweets and coffee, I'd be upset too!
A unicorn on the side of a post. Somewhere.
I was amused by this sticker, mostly because I happened to be wearing about five layers when I spotted it.
Nothing much to say about this one.
This is my piece of bread. Back off! It's mine! Don't even think about taking it! I saw you thinking about it, but you should know better! It's mine! My bread! Mine!
I was amused by the contrast between the ornate rose window and the Port-a-potty.