Rose-of-Sharons doubling each other at the end of the season.
A happy Labor Day to my fellow Americans --- the languid long weekend that means the end of summer. Not, mind you, that the weather's going to change much, at least around here, for a long time to come, but still the day trips that switch in the mind that signals a new season. The old rule is that you don't wear white after Labor Day, and not that I'm a particular respector of these rules, but to me this feels like permission. Now you get to do something different, and nobody will think you're rushing things. On the other hand, the Rose-of-Sharons are still wearing white, and more power to them.
We don't have any special plans for the day, other than to grill hamburgers for supper. It's a fairly hot day, with a high of 93F, which doesn't beckon us out to the local hiking trails. The mountains will be overrun by holiday hikers today, so that's out. Still, I will take the dog for a generous walk here in just a while --- she's been out already, before breakfast, flushing rabbits from the monkey grass in the backyard, but we need to stretch our legs in a more sustained way soon. AND give the poor rabbits a break. Dora might have to go back to leash-only-out-of-doors, if she starts jumping fences after the rabbits.
This lonely toilet has been sitting in front of a house on East Park Street for a month now. I wonder what the people who put it there think is going to happen to it. We have assiduous curb-marters around here, but to date nobody has gone for this thing. We walk past it every day and go, "Yep, there it still is."
Also, I have some more good literary news, as of yesterday, but have to sit on it for a little while. Watch this space.
What I can tell you is what I'm wearing today:
Redyed spruce-green Sierra, with the ubiquitous purple Birk Rosemeads and the cut-off hemline of a merino base-layer tee for a belt.
Amazingly, the colors in this close-up are fairly accurate. This dress feels way too voluminous and long at this stage to wear unbelted (unless I'm sleeping in her, as I sometimes do), but I love her with a belt to define the waist. This feels like a nice summer's-end outfit: sleeveless and breezy (even though the fabric is heavy), but in darker colors to carry things forward into fall. I could so quickly dress the whole thing up by switching into yesterday's Birk Papillio wedges, but I don't have any need to do that today. The Artgirl, at eleven or twelve, had a pair of knockoff suede Birk Bostons (like these shoes, but a closed clog, not a Mary Jane) which she called her "shuffles" --- a name which suits these shoes perfectly, I've always thought. You just shuffle them on and then shuffle around in them. In just a bit I'm going to leash up Dora and take a shuffle around the neighborhood in mine.
Semi-obligatory rear view of outfit:
Side-ish view:
Again, this dress has relaxed so much --- currently, unbelted, the hemline hits below my knees --- that without a belt it's a total tent. With a belt, however, it is transformed into an objectively flattering dress. I do not mind having to wear a belt or sash to achieve this effect, either --- it's fun to switch things out. I wish I'd started tracking wears the day the dress arrived in the mail, lo these almost-two-years ago, because I think I've handily recapped its cost in wearing it. So far this year, I've worn it (let's see . . . counts on fingers) 40 times, as of today. Eight months, during which I rotated this dress heavily with other dresses, and that's still pennies per wear, given that I bought it with my 100-day challenge reward gift code, for $100 off. Even if I'd paid full price for the dress, by now I'd still have worn it so many times that it would cost me less than a dollar a wear. AND I envision wearing it for a good many years to come, with careful upkeep and repair.
So, realizing that I have to wear a belt with it is part of that ongoing upkeep --- but to me that's part of deriving value from wearing the dress. I'm not going to discard it because it's relaxed a lot and isn't as flattering to wear in the way I'd originally worn it (and no, I don't know whether that's a function of dyeing it or not --- I don't really know why it seems to have lost a good bit of elasticity, except that I've hardly babied it). I've simply found a solution that I like. If I couldn't find a solution, it would probably be time either to move the dress to nightgown status, or move her along entirely to someone else, but as it is, I'm glad to have hit on something that changes the game for me. It's like having a new dress altogether, from the ashes of an old one. And fortunately for me, since my skills are limited, that game-changer didn't demand a whole lot of me.
Well, anyway. I'm going to eat something, then walk. Happy Labor Day!
LATER:
WOW, that was a hot walk. It was only about 91F, but the "Real Feel" was 100F, and it really felt like that. Dora and I have come home and prostrated ourselves. I have to admit . . . it's a hot day to wear Sierra. But now that I've stopped sweating, she feels okay again. Doing some revisions, thinking about an essay I need to write. Just the usual, really.
Spending the day making more kefir and soaking oats, quinoa, and chia seeds in some of the kefir I'd already made, to put in the fridge tonight and eat tomorrow.
EVEN LATER:
Nice burger cookout with the husband, followed by a pleasant sit on the porch. Now just waiting for it to be dark enough to walk the dog, hoping that all other neighborhood dog walkers will get finished, already. I spent a good bit of the earlier walk dodging the next-door white shepherd dog, who is beautiful but is also Dora's sworn enemy. We really don't want to have to run into him again.
So she's sitting behind me in my chair at the table, while we await the husband's advent in the downstairs region.
But soft, do I hear the creak of a desk chair above?
He descends! He descends!
So I guess we're going for this walk.