A change in the weather: I won't be working on the patio today. Of course I left the couch cushions out again. SIGH. Even in the rain, though, those redbuds make a fairy-elven sight.
Wearing today:
These wide-legged drawstring lounge pants belong, technically, to my elder son. As they say, possession is 9/10 of the law. I wear them chiefly for the purpose of lounging, but sometimes I like them as an outfit element, mostly for the wide legs and the high waist. Granted, I don't think they're meant to be this high-waisted. He's about 5'10, so obviously they sit a little differently on him. But on me, they create a kind of 1940s trouser silhouette which I like.
Here's a better shot, without Dora:
With the lounge trousers, I'm wearing my secondhand grape v-neck Ibex merino tee, secondhand duster-length gray cardigan which according to my wardrobe tracker has not seen much wear this calendar year, and my Xero Colorados, which are a little matchy, but I like the shape with the trousers. Plus, I can go out in the rain in them and not worry about ruining my shoes.
Of course I'm continuing not to buy anything, but I would very much love more wide-leg drawstring trousers like this. I had some cropped ones that I'd owned since about 2006, but finally decided to outbox -- what I really want are LONG wide-leg drawstring trousers with a silhouette just like these. I'd take them in a merino knit, or in a linen weave, especially. These are nothing to write home about, fabric-wise -- they're some kind of quick-dry synthetic -- though they are silky and soft and fluid. As they are what I have, I want to make use of them. It occurs to me that I could even wear them for a dressy occasion with heels and a flowy top or a vintage-y blouse, plus a little more attention to my hair. Nobody would ever know they were my son's pajama pants, if I didn't say.
I've finished my Lenten sonnet for the day: Petrarchan this time. The last two days I've done variations on 7-and-7 stanzas: abcabcc kind of rhyme schemes in the stanzas, volta right in the middle. These variations have no real logic to them in the great scheme of the sonnet cycles -- I just get bored and fiddle around with the form. Got to sketch out a couple of weeks' worth of Sun poems to prepare for a meeting tomorrow, where I think we're also going to start recording ourselves reading some poems aloud for an audio feature. The eventual idea is to persuade various famous people to record audio poems for us, rather a daunting thought when I consider having to write those emails.
Better get to it. Dora is busily chewing her bone on the sofa next to me, which means that for the moment she isn't trying to chew me. Window of opportunity and all that.