Sky drama on our walk home from the pub last night.
Some menacing clouds to the north, but I think we'd had our storms already.
Meanwhile, from our greenway walk yesterday, here's a shot of the creek in the woods, which is normally a trickle:
By now I'm sure it's gone down again. It drains out pretty fast. But it provides a relatively minor, safe primer in how floods happen.
The Fire Son, who has had some days of R&R, reports that he's "back at it in Hungry Horse, Montana." OK, guardian angels, once again . . .
My friend David Mills posted a Facebook memory last night of being in an antique shop with his wife, who clearly wanted a brooch in a glass case, which he had some trouble communicating to the proprietor he wanted opened, and the brooch taken out, while his wife was marginally out of earshot. A whole hissed drama ensued, in which he had to raise his (whispering) voice to insist that he wanted to buy the brooch, not look at it. He had just paid for it when his wife came up and said, "You know, I've decided I really didn't want that brooch." Reader (said David), she did want the brooch.
This prompted me to remember a brooch of my own, which I used to visit daily, all those years ago in Cambridge, in the window of an antique shop as I walked our daughter to school. It had a price tag attached to it, but I couldn't see the price from outside. I was too shy to go in and ask to see it, because the shop was at least one standard deviation beyond the level of the charity shops I frequented with enthusiasm, and I was afraid that its wares would be astronomically expensive. I didn't want this brooch, I told myself. It would just be my fantasy brooch, to visit until somebody else bought it, upon which occasion I would be heartbroken, but what did I expect?
Finally, one day, my husband and I were walking together that way, presumably also to fetch our daughter from school, or else we'd just dropped her off, and I stopped to look in the window.
Finally, one day, my husband and I were walking together that way, presumably also to fetch our daughter from school, or else we'd just dropped her off, and I stopped to look in the window.
"Look," I said to him, "there's the brooch I visit every day."
"What?" he said, or words to that effect.
"That brooch."
"What brooch?" (It was a crowded window).
(Pointing) "That one."
"Oh, yes, that's very nice."
"I visit it every day. I mean, I don't want it. I just visit it."
Reader . . . it must not have been that expensive.
I do have quite the collection of brooches. I think this one opened a particular gift-giving floodgate. I need to start giving them to my daughters, because I have more than I can wear, and some that aren't really things I'd have chosen, but would suit them just fine. I haven't worn brooches as much in recent years as I used to --- I must start again. That's one argument for wearing blazers, which give you a handy lapel to put things on. In England I wore a greatcoat kind of coat ---- not terribly warm, as it happened, but it looked nice, and it had lapels suitable for the wearing of brooches, so I did, a lot. Brooches are a good argument for wearing pullover sweaters, too, I think, because somehow that makes sense, to have a brooch on your sweater. I obviously won't wear them on my dresses, because they'd make holes, but I really do need to think of something, because they're pretty, just the kind of little detail that I love. Maybe I'll take to pinning my scarves in place, like the brooch on a Viking cloak. I do have a wooden owl brooch for the big shawl Anna-Kate made me last fall, and have worn it with other larger pins, but I should consider making that more a thing this year.
Today, the storms having blown through for the time being, it's sunny with a high of 85F --- and only roughly 80% humidity. Really a perfect late-summer day. I'm going to get dressed and ready to walk the dog, hoping to make it another 3-mile morning. I feel so much better about life and work when I can put some real miles behind me early in the day. Not that any walking isn't good. It is. It's better to walk than not to walk, as many health and longevity studies agree. But I like walking a lot, as in for distances. It just feels good. It's a thing I hope I'm doing when I'm 90.
Once the weather cools off again significantly, I'll resume my rucking practice, i.e., carrying a backpack with weights. It's just been too hot and draining to do it lately, and I really want to wait till there's a snap in the air before I get serious about it again. What I have been doing are resistance exercises for my arms, mostly with a stretch band --- as I think I've probably already said in this space at some point, at least once. I keep the band by me on the kitchen table and do little sets of reps all during the day, as my eye happens to fall on the band. I think I can tell some slight difference in my arms' musculature already, which is encouraging.
I really want to develop and maintain more upper-body strength, so that I can carry a coffee cup without spilling it because the weight makes my hands shake. That's not the case currently (thank goodness), but I see how older women like my mother-in-law, who is 92, really struggle to lift even small things. Now, when I'm 92 (God willing), I may find that doing my exercises now hasn't stopped a lot of things from being difficult. But I want to be as strong as I can for as long as I can, because the less difficulty the better.
Naturally I'm thinking about all these things as my next birthday approaches. It's not the big decade birthday: that's next year. But it will mark the first year of my seventh decade, the close of my sixth, and that does give a person pause. Or it should, anyway. It's never too late to do just about anything good, but the sooner you start a practice, the longer you have to make that practice part of your life, and to reap its benefits. My body has really been pretty good to me all these years, and I should thank it by taking better care of it.
And dressing it happily!
Here's Miss Willow, after a rest of almost two weeks. She was the one dress I hadn't yet worn in August, so clearly it's her turn. Besides, as I continually remind myself, purple isn't just for Advent and Lent.
As I've been trying to do lately, I've taken a lot of shots from many angles.
It becomes kind of fun to use my body and clothes as part of a photographic composition, whose other elements are the tile floor, the mirror, and the old doors (also sometimes the scale and the laundry hamper). I like to see how colors and shapes show up on this creamy monochromatic backdrop, day after day. If it's boring, in the sense of never showing me out in the world doing interesting things . . . well, among other considerations, there's the indisputable reality of my life, in which I am not ever doing particularly visually interesting things. I'm a writer. I sit at a table and type. Otherwise, I walk the dog, and I've shown you those scenes, if not always showing you myself in them.
Meanwhile, everyone does take bathroom selfies at least sometimes, and there's kind of a challenge to making the basic bathroom selfie something more like a little work of art. Or if that feels pretentious (and it does to me, believe me), at least granting it some kind of interest and sense of play. I have fun doing it, at any rate. I guess this is a level you achieve in this whole game: you level up from selfies are excruciating and embarrassing to hey, gang, let's have a party in front of the mirror! Willingness to look like an idiot on a daily basis is, I hope, its own form of virtue.
AND I like this outfit. I love my Willow dress. Really, every one of the Wool& dresses I currently own is a dress I'd happily own more of, in different colors. Each one I put on makes me think, no, really, you're my favorite. This dress is no exception. She's light and floaty and easy, and the color is a dream. I'm enjoying, today, layering purple on purple in the whole scheme of my outfit, wearing these thrifted Birk Rosemeads. They make a nice change from sandals, as well as a visual echo of my dress color, without matching it. Nothing in the world could be simpler than an unstructured dress and Birkenstocks, but I love the equally simple cohesion of this combination.
I think I'll dispense with any belt today and just hang loose.
SOMEWHAT LATER:
SOMEWHAT LATER:
I'm back from walking (checks notes) 3.37 miles with Dora, who is now passed out in her crate. Eating lunch, treading water, putting off things I need to do, because it's Friday, and who feels like doing anything on Friday?
Hey, I know! I think I'll obsess about clothes and decisionmaking a little more.
So, as I have insisted a thousand times, I'm in a purchasing pause, effective until November 1. That pause does not cover things like underwear and accessories, but it does cover major clothing items, including things I might be tempted to buy on Poshmark (like Birkenstock boots, for example). The seriousness is real!
But one thing I notice is that every time I say I'm not buying things, what do I think about all the time?
Yeah, anyway.
I've been casting my eyes longingly on that burgundy Fiona, forthcoming next month. But almost as soon as I start to envision having one, my mind comes up with reasons why it might not be a smart buy. The dress, yes. I have, love, and constantly wear a Fiona already. She was yesterday's favorite dress, because she was the dress I was wearing. I know I'd love to have another one. It's the color that gives me pause.
Burgundy: Pros and Cons
Pros:
I look good in burgundy. It's probably truly my best red, though I would not rule out garnet. A garnet Fiona would really be a dream.
Cons:
I think of burgundy as a fall/winter color.
Would I wear a burgundy Fiona in the summer, the way I do my teal Fiona?
Much of the winter is taken up with Advent and Lent, when I like to wear purple.
Burgundy isn't that purple-friendly.
So . . .
My mind begins to play with purple possibilities. I already have one dress in wisteria (this Willow I'm wearing today), and while I love the color, I don't need more than one dress in it.
Plum? There is a plum Fiona. It's not actually that different a color from burgundy, just bluer and purpler, a very red-looking purple. I think I could wear it just fine. It also seems like a color I might be more inclined to wear in the summer than burgundy does.
That's a possibility, but then as soon as I open the door even a crack, admitting other possibilities, all that happens is that I'm back to wanting everything, when I've been telling myself that what I need is one dress, maybe. Double emphasis on maybe.
At the same time, it's maybe not a bad thing to take a second look at things I haven't considered. That's how I've ended up with some favorite dresses, in fact. Maggie, Fiona, Willow, and Brooklyn are all styles I really didn't look at seriously until I did, and now I love them.
For example, I've never seriously considered an Ellie. But now that I have swing dresses above and at my knee, plus a maxi dress . . . maybe a real midi dress has some appeal. Both Pine and Marionberry seem like colors I'd really wear a lot year-round. The downside is that these are likely to sell out fast, so that if I waited until November I'd miss out . . . so I had better not develop too great an attachment to this idea. I did already buy those Birk boots, with no regrets (and wow, could I see either of those Ellie colors with those boots, and with so many of my fun tights, and with sandals even in the summer . . .), but I don't necessarily want to repeat that maneuver.
Other possibilities . . .
The Evelyn, maybe? I like the neckline and the shape, though I wonder how comfortably I could pull it off, given the non-six-pack-ness of my abs. Also, it's the Sierra fabric, which I do love and which is very cozy for the winter (and would stand on its own in our mild winters, without a lot of layering a lot of the time), but I wonder whether it would hang unworn all summer. That wouldn't be the end of the world (after all, my cardigans largely lie in wait for cooler weather to roll around again), but if I'm going to pay that much money, I want to get a lot of wear out of the item. So I don't know.
Or the Margo, which I think is a slightly lighter fabric? I don't like the neckline quite as much, but I do like that vintage blue, which would be a massively serviceable and pleasurable color for me. The shape seems a little less streamlined, which might be to my advantage. And I see that they're offering a new Margo in thyme green, which I think I could wear (and which plays VERY well with purples). So that's another thought. It's another above-the-knee dress, but would be very fun with boots and an array of tights colors. Blue would be safer, though. I know I'd look good in that.
Anyway . . . fortunately, I think I'm running out of energy for window-shopping, at least at the moment. And I still don't really know whether I want to add another dress. I've been back and forth on this question, obviously. The idea of a new dress is enticing. I also consider how many times I've put that Pact dress in the outbox and gotten it out again, but how when I wear it, I don't just love it. I never think, wow, I want five more of these. I think: I love this color. And the fabric feels nice. And I talk to myself about what a nice dress it really is. But would I rather resell it and have another wool dress in its place? The answer is starting to crystallize in my mind.
And so I am considering. Whatever I do, it'll be an exhaustively considered move, and everyone, including me, will be heartily sick of my considerations long before I make whatever move it ends up being.
Now, having gotten myself to the end of that brain spiral, I think I'll try to do some actual work.
OK, WROTE AND UPLOADED TWO ESSAYS.
More windowshopping. Sorry, can't stop myself. Another round of fantasy buying, because I'm not doing real buying.
There are the dress styles I already have and love. What would I repeat for a fall/winter purchase, were I to do such a thing?
We've already exhaustively discussed Fiona. But . . .
Audrey in mauve? I like that mauve. My eye keeps coming back to it. It's a fairly purple pink, or a pink that could count as a purple (not to mention rose for Gaudete/Laetare Sundays, because of course I think about that, too). I love my current Audrey as a year-round staple. So that's one to keep in mind. The mauve looks fairly close to the color of my Pact dress, now that I think about it --- pinker, but in the same tonal range.
Another Willow? Maybe in plum? Maybe a long instead of a regular?
Enough of that. Back to it.