Window above the kitchen sink yesterday afternoon, with new pothos cuttings in this weird test-tube thing that's been sitting there for about two years, waiting for me to think what to do with it, plus some of my daughter's pottery, which is much more beautiful than the lighting here reveals. Also a little stained-glass panel which a friend of my husband's made for him, years before we were married. It's hung in every kitchen window we've had over the last almost-thirty-three years.
Yesterday was lovely and sunny. Today it's raining and colder. I really don't want to go anywhere, least of all outside to walk the dog, but once I have some coffee in my system, I'll be good to go.
Here's a picture, also from yesterday, of the first bloom on the huge old forsythias along the backyard fence by the drive:
And of Dora last night, being Really Over It All (after tearing around the house like a maniac, continually counter-surfing in the kitchen, galloping up and down the stairs repeatedly):
Wearing today for Sunday Mass:
Wool& Fiona dress, yesterday's secondhand merino cardigan, Snag opaque tights (not merino, for a change) in "Thicket," Dream Pairs tall boots bought a couple of years ago --- not as great to walk in, and not a fine pair of boots generally, but fleece-lined and warm and fairly waterproof.
Another shot where the color of my tights shows up better. I decided I was in the mood for some fun leg color today:
Just a little sage-green to play with my teal dress.
Outside, walking the dog, wearing my 18-year-old teal coat:
I put the hood up for extra warmth, as well as to keep the rain off:
I love this coat. It's basically a wearable sleeping bag.
Considering, too, once again, how much of a difference angle makes when you're taking photographs of yourself. You can take a really flattering picture, or not:
I don't actually mind this picture. It is what I look like from some angles. It's also a pretty accurate representation of my age. I can make myself look ageless (and in fact people tend to think I'm a lot younger than I am), but I'm not ageless, because nobody is --- and I'm fine with that. I've had a season of a lot of hair loss, and now it's growing in again, which I'm happy about, including the fact that what's growing in is silver. It's supposed to do that. Nothing wrong is happening here. Just time, which touches us all. I have friends in their 30s who are talking about Botox, and you know, no judgment here, but I do wonder what my forehead looks like to people in the land where Botox in your 20s and 30s is normal. So sorry if, to people in that land, my forehead looks ugly. I think it's just a normal human forehead, for someone born in 1964. That line between my eyebrows? Dude, I put in a lot of worrying to acquire that line. I wish I hadn't worried, but I'm not ashamed of the line.
I wish I had some more theological thoughts to accompany the American church's observation of Epiphany, which was actually Friday, but I don't. Just: here's my face, folks. REVEALED. Or, as the Sun's house stylebook would have it, EVINCED or DISCLOSED, because we may only use the word revealed when talking about God. Don't get me started on this house stylebook, because it includes mechanics and usage rules I've never seen in my life, and I like to consider myself acquainted with standard English usage.
Anyway, according to this stylebook, I can use the word revealed when I'm strictly talking about the Epiphany, but my face must be a disclosure.
On that note, I take me to church (having, as the French say, risen myself from bed and brushed myself the hair and the teeth).
LATER:
I've kept trying to get a good shot of the teal/green juxtaposition, because I really love it. This is my knee in the car on the way home from Mass.
I was afraid I'd be cold in these regular tights, but they've been fine. I still far prefer the merino, but it was nice to have these other opaque tights to pull out for a change on a dreary day. My style album so far tells me that holy cow, I wear a lot of blue and gray. Mind you, I LIKE blue and gray, especially blue, but I'm kind of hungry for at least a little color variety. I'm definitely keeping this in mind as I consider dress purchases for the year: one spring/Lent dress, one summer dress, POSSIBLY another fall/winter dress next fall, but we'll see.
I did pull the trigger on another Poshmark purchase last night (but it was $9): a linen skirt in a kind of chambray blue that will go with everything in my closet. I was down to two skirts (thank you, weight gain), and I do like having the option of wearing a skirt over a dress, or very occasionally an actual skirt/top combination. I would like to get more wear out of my merino tees, and I'm not always going to want to layer them over or under a dress, especially in the heat. The two skirts I have don't go with fully half my tops (though they do go with all my dresses), so I thought that at least one skirt purchase was in order. I am continuing to look for at least one more skirt --- midi or maxi, preferably in linen or a linen blend. Then I think I will be well and truly set until I'm ready to make another dress purchase.
It is interesting how the residual "no-buy" mindset hangs over me. This feels like a total shopping blowout, even though it's things I waited months to buy and identified as items I wanted to target, and every one of them has been secondhand and an excellent buy for what it is. Every one of them has been versatile and high-quality. Yet I feel this niggling unease, sort of akin to the way you feel when you've been eating keto and decide to have a potato. Which is to say: there's nothing wrong with eating a potato. There is much right about eating a potato. What might be wrong is the good-food/bad-food mindset.
I really liked doing a no-buy year, even though it wasn't a no-acquisition year, and even though --- despite the relative gentleness of my personal rule --- I was unbelievably sick of it by the end. If I'm bingeing a little now, well . . . yeah. Maybe I am. Or maybe I'm NOT. Maybe buying clothes is a normal human behavior, and there's nothing wrong with it.
Maybe one day I will achieve balance in the way I feel about my life, but today does not look like that day. Not that it's a bad day. It's a good day. We had a lovely Mass and saw some fun friends after, and now we've come home and eaten scrambled eggs and are vegetating, because it's cold and wet out there. And all of this is GOOD.