pony

For a few hours on Sunday morning Marlo played on the living room floor with the many little toys that she bought at Deseret Industries (everyone just calls it D.I.) with my mother. Whenever they go for a sleepover they stop at one of the very many D.I. locations and she gives them a few dollars to buy, well, let’s just call it what it is, a whole lot of nothing: old stuffed animals, jewelry boxes, bags, tiny figurines that end up slicing holes in my feet. It’s an odd ritual, but I’m grateful to my mother for giving them this incredible memory.

“When Grandmommy comes we get to go buy a whole bunch of shit!”

The light coming through the east-facing window that morning lit her hair on fire. There isn’t a lot of good natural light in this house, so when I can find it I snatch it up with the camera where I can keep it forever.