Photography Curious

2025-07-36

Dear False Potato Mother,

Yesterday I installed a screen door on our porch. We'd been using a cardboard TV box to keep the cat from running out the door for approximately a year and I was sick of it. It always fell over and we'd have to chase her in the yard. So I got the crazy idea to buy a screen door and put it in the place that was there for a screen door. It looks janky as hell, because I had to use random scraps of wood to fill in some gaps, but you know what? It looks less janky than using a cardboard box did. I'm sitting on the porch right now with a cup of puh erh tea, listening to dub in the sun, very happy work is over for the day. I quit coffee because acid reflux and insomnia were a bit too much. Getting very into teas.

Since I'm on the dumb phone now for good, I needed a camera, so I bought a digital camera and learned two things--1) this camera is worse quality than my phone camera was and 2) I like taking photos with it more for some reason. Here are some I took!

We are getting very close to August 17th, when SARA or I lived my life as a cloud that followed overhead drops from Inside the Castle! I'm hoping to have a preorder link sooner or later, I'll probably drop you a short email when that hits outside our usual monthly update. You can watch for it yourself by following Inside the Castle on the social media application of your choice. I believe their usual username is "Incastellated" but I bet a search will turn something up.

As of right now, I have no plans for readings coming up, but I have a lead for a post-book release reading in SF and am on the lookout for leads on readings in Oregon and WA, so HMU if you could be such a lead. I don't remember if I mentioned it already, but the Seattle reading went amazingly. Thank you to everyone who came out. I loved meeting y'all. Here's a new poem I wrote that I read there:


Signed Confession

I, Sara Lammergeier Wolfthing, known heresiarch
& unshowered wife of little renown,
maiden name unexpectedly daughtered out,
was out back of a Love’s, drinking
muddy water on the lamb,
until my ablutions were cut short
via aimed roman candle–clearly intentional
with no apparent regard for stray sparks
that might catch the undergrowth–
so I hollered out shit like “ancestry
dot com says I’m 10% ossifrage,”
and “I have matching tattoos with the void”
but they caught me and I knew it,
I’d been birthing illegal shit in a public john,
which I named Miralax Gatorade after her father.
I accept all repercussions of this action,
& only ask that you wait til next week
to disappear my wife, because she’s most of the way
through death stranding 2, and I’d like
her to have the memory of finishing it,
wherever she ends up.


Here's a taste of my media consumption habits lately:


Reading:


Watching:


Listening:

Thanks again for tuning in to Dear False Potato Mother, where we can all pretend we live in rural Washington and barely leave the house.


Love you forever,

Never Angeline North, a name of pear-sized renown