The Pagan Sphinx Fridge Gallery

The fabulous DCup recently started this meme-like thing where she posted pictures of her fridge Gallery and tagged a few bloggers to do the same. Well, I wasn't tagged but I like these little ideas of hers that can be so fun and distracting and so I am doing it too. What a copycat, huh? Except I won't tag anyone. I do invite you to play too, if you would like. Let me know if you did so I can gaze at your Fridge Gallery.

A lovely but mysterious note that I found behind a bureau a few weeks ago. I don't know who left it but it's very dear. I hazard a few guesses. Supergirl Two has lovely-dovey friends, a couple of whom I've known and loved since they were babies. They're like the nieces I wish I had, I love them still .

An old photo of the Super Little Girls at around 2 and 1/2 and 18 months
(life is the red wagon)

Old news: from the winter of 2007, a news clipping of a photo that I purposely moved to the front so you could take a look; just as you would if you were breathlessly checking out my Fridge Gallery. It's of a paper mache gorilla we threw out in the yard. We gave it its last hurrah before disposing of it in the spring. It was a big hit around the neighborhood with kids and dogs. And, apparently, news photographers with nothing else too exciting to photograph.

A birthday card from my best friend; picture of Supergirl One and a little calendar - one of those where they've made fruit and vegetables into animals and photographed them. You can see how busy my social calendar is ;-)

Then there is my new hair cutter guy's business card. I just found these two great guys that run this salon in a little basement storefront in my town. It's kind of cute and I feel right at home with all the blue-haired old ladies who go for a cut and perm. Except that I only get a cut. No perm. No way. Never.

Magnet holding a very important business card: The Pagan Sphinx's nueromuscular massage therapist. A very kind man with amazing hands that heal my neck, shoulders and back. If I go too long without seeing him, my neck starts to feel like a hard, dry twig that it will snap in half if I look up, down or sideways.

Okay. Your turn!