This is a season of beautiful feasts --- and I guess what is marvelous about them is the way that they point (as in fact all the feasts of the Christian year really do) to the Incarnation, the entrance of God into human history, to be with us so that we could be with God. It's a move, on the part of the Creator, to affirm and bless creation, to point to the goodness of what is here as well as what is there. The love of God is a love that takes it all in, and inhabits it all.
Here's a picture of pillows on my bed, because I thought the colors and patterns were beautiful. No little material thing is ever insignificant. Beauty is within our reach all the time --- although, as my friend and I were saying to each other the other night, the hardest thing about real poverty is the poverty of beauty. If you are really, materially poor, you are shut out of a lot, it's true. Your neighborhood won't be remotely a pretty neighborhood. When you're focused on survival, too, that distills your life to the barest utilitarian level. I'm not going to say, But you can still go out and pick dandelions, because that's just insulting. Yeah, maybe you could, and maybe you would get shot doing it . . . It's not for me to tell you what you can and can't do, in your particular situation in life.
So I can't really make a universal declaration on the egalitarian accessibility of beauty, because I don't know . . . there are people who seem cruelly excluded from access to beauty, and I'm not going to insinuate that that's their fault. At the same time, there are people who do seem to see beauty in unlikely places. The human imagination is a powerful and transcendent thing, truly the "intellectual light" as Thomas Aquinas put it, that is the grace of God in us. The worst degradation of poverty, especially generational poverty, is the atrophy of that faculty, so that the child who grows up at that baseline utilitarian level, where all there is is survival, doesn't experience any nurture of the grace in himself, that would enable him to experience joy, or love, or wonder, or even empathy.
That could happen, truly, at any socio-economic level, because deprivation is an equal-opportunity employer, but there is a hardness you sometimes see in children and teenagers who have grown up not knowing that they have an imagination, or that that imagination is what connects them to God, or that God exists, or that anything is good at all, in any way --- I remember being shocked by kids like this, when I was a very young, unfathomably naive public high-school English teacher. I was afraid of them then; I feel sorrow for them now, because I can see far more clearly now than I could then what made them the way they were.
Anyway. All that aside, beauty does exist in the world --- And for all this, Hopkins writes, nature is never spent. The fact of the Incarnation blesses it, and you can, even if you have not been especially lucky in your life, learn to look for it a little, even if it's only in the way the light falls across your wall at a certain hour of the day. The human imagination is full of surprises. It can be awakened from its drugged slumber. Where there's life there may not be hope, that a particular person can consciously apprehend, but there is always grace. Whether we realize it or not, we do exist in the heart of that great love that made all things. Its designs and symmetries and juxtapositions and paradoxes are here, in this world, all around us.
*******
It's Saturday, and I have to work today, which I had not wanted to do. I got a good bit done yesterday, but am not happy with a couple of essays I drafted, and still have at least one more to write. My aim all week was the clear the decks so that next week could belong to Emily Dickinson --- who, let me tell you, oppresses like the heft / Of cathedral tunes at the moment. The only thing that's keeping me from imploding under the weight of this weird little woman in white is the knowledge that I've written about 850 words of that essay already and have something to build on.
And really, I don't think she was a weird little woman. I mean, she was. Thomas Wentworth Higginson, her literary mentor from the 1860s onward, wrote as much to his wife after meeting her in person for the first time. Weird is not the word he used, but he obviously found her very strange. Her strangeness was her out-of-sync-ness with the world she found herself in --- connected to a natural cosmos she loved deeply (and did not want to "renounce" in the name of Christianity), connected also to a cosmos of ideas that were larger than the conventions of social interaction in nineteenth-century Amherst, Massachusetts. She was completely herself, and she really didn't seem to have any filters, or any self-regulation, which made the normal intercourse of daily life almost impossible, especially over time. But her singularity and her lack of self-regulation also kept her open to the largeness of her own imagination. She was a great poet, and she remains a fascinating figure, but my goodness, I am so tired of her right now.
******
Post-bath/hair-wash, wearing today:
*Wool& Maggie dress (S/Long) in Aegean Teal, bought May 2023, last worn May 23
*Secondhand Birk Mayaris, bought April 2024, last worn yesterday
Another day, another World's Most Versatile Dress. I love this little dress just as she comes: so simple, such graceful lines, such a no-brainer to wear with a pair of sandals in the summer. I have two Maggies, and this is the more beat-up one by far, maybe because I like this color even better than I like Marine Blue. This Maggie went to Norway last summer, and she's going again this year --- actually they both are this time --- because this design makes for such a perfect travel dress, easy to feel good in, easy to dress up or down.
But of course, I had to conduct a little experiment.
I am really, really, really happy that I bought this secondhand Garnet Hill skirt. I hadn't realized how much I wanted a solid, relatively neutral skirt (but not a pale color that shows dirt easily) with plenty of room to move, but apparently I did want that a lot. Before I tried it on today, I had suspected that I'd love the sagey green with teals, and yes, in fact, I do. This is an utterly fabulous color combination, in my view. Just almost unbeatable.
I'm recording this outfit as another possibility for the plane, a week from Monday. It would certainly free up more room in my backpack to be wearing two fairly major items of clothing, and the skirt would give me some warmth on the chilly plane and in airports, without my having to wear leggings.
The kimono does look pretty good with this combination:
That's really the key. Whatever I wear on the plane has to work with the kimono, which I'm counting on to be my top layer/blanket during travel.
So: note to self.
One other note to self about travel is how much difference it makes to me to wear dresses/skirts when I'm traveling. Even if I don't look exactly like everyone else on the street, I feel a lot less like an obvious tourist, because I'm not wearing what signals itself as a travel wardrobe. It just looks like clothes. I'm not wearing specially-bought walking shoes --- that is, I did buy these Birkenstocks specially for walking, but that's because walking is what I do every day at home anyway, not a thing I reserve for foreign travel. If I'm comfortable walking in it here, stands to reason that I'd be comfortable walking in it there, too.
I mean, yeah, I'd probably be conspicuous in Paris, because I haven't gotten the French street style memo --- but that's one more reason to be glad I'm not going to Paris. Paris is great, don't get me wrong. I have been to Paris, I have had good times in Paris, I love Paris. French was my language all through school, and under duress I can speak it. I wouldn't not go back to France.
But I love the laid-back-ness of Norwegians, and the way that Norwegian women look great just being themselves, without a whole lot of fuss or effort. I love that they care about health and comfort more than they care about what your shoes look like. So they don't have an international reputation for sartorial elegance: to me that's a feature, not a bug. And it makes it easier to slip through the crowd, not looking that different from anybody else, which I, an ordinary person, appreciate.
Also, and this is probably a form of heresy, I like their food better than I like a lot of French food. It is much easier to order in a restaurant and get what you think you're ordering (even if you speak French, menu French is something else again) --- and what's on offer is generally a lot simpler and fresher, berries and fish and so on. Last year we more or less lived on bread and brunost, the ubiquitous brown cheese, so delicious and so hard to get over here. But you can also walk into any restaurant and get a good fiskesuppe, which is simple, delicious, and filling. I mean, yeah, yeah, obviously France has bread and cheese. And bouillabaisse, depending on where you are. And many other good and delicious foods. But it's easy to go very wrong, ordering from a French menu, and the waiter is generally not going to help you. If you know, you know, and if not, too bad. This is not the Norwegian way. Mad props to the Norwegians for being friendly, helpful, and not above speaking English (although I have been madly trying to learn Norwegian --- I can now ask where the hospital is, for example).
Anyway, yeah, definitely I'm taking this skirt. I didn't know that it was the piece my whole wardrobe was crying out for, but apparently it is. Good thing I bought it --- at $45 it was one of my more expensive secondhand purchases this spring, but it won't take me long to reduce my cost-per-wear to under a dollar a day.
And it does instantly transform a swing dress into something else. Taking this one piece with me when I travel basically doubles my entire travel wardrobe, because every dress can then become a top (well, not Audrey, because she's too long, but every other dress I'm taking . . .). Above-the-knee dresses in particular become suddenly wearable in churches. Not that the Norwegians particularly care, but if we were going to Italy, this skirt would be my absolute ace. Every day would be either Audrey with the kimono to pop on to go into a church, or a swing dress with this skirt for church entry.
But I'm not going to either France or Italy. I'm going to Norway in just over a week, and by the time I leave I must have all this copy written and filed. Also preferably clean and in need of minimal editing. And the work is not going to do itself.
AFTERNOON UPDATE:
WHEW. Well. I still have one essay left on the Substack schedule, but it's not set to run until July 10. God willing, I will have been back from Norway for a week, in which time maybe I can manage a little lighthearted piece on a Mother Goose poem. For now I think I'm cooked (so to speak). MAYBE I can even pull that out before I leave. But next week belongs to Emily Dickinson. And in the meantime, I am maybe not brain dead, but brain done.
Today's mid-afternoon hair, clean, air-dried, not really styled:
The other day I bought some LUS 3-in-1 leave-in, a product I've owned and used before, though it's been a couple of years. Today was the first time I've used it for a washday, and I am remembering what I liked so much about it last time.
1. As the name suggests, it's a leave-in conditioner that's also a repair treatment that's also a styler, meant to encourage your hair in waves or curls, depending on which formula you buy. I bought the "wavy" formula, which is the lightest. I suspect the "curly" and "kinky" formulas would be too moisturizing and heavy for my hair.
2. A tiny bit goes a long way. Like the LUS Irish Sea-Moss gel, this is a product that lasts me months before I have to buy it again. I use maybe a dime-sized amount of this product, plus a lot of water, to achieve slip and some wave definition in my wet hair.
3. Although it doesn't, by itself, impart a lot of hold (if you want lasting definition, use gel, too), it does leave your hair very soft and shiny, with minimal frizz. I could have layered gel over my hair while it was wet, and then diffused, for more distinctly wavy hair. But what I'm really aiming for here is hair that air-dries just fine, with a little shape and a lot of smoothness and minimal fuss: basically my very best natural hair.
4. Unlike mousse/foam, it's easy to pack for travel, in a carry-on format.
5. It smells very nice, but the scent is light and not overpowering.
I had had this product on my list for a long time. Again, I liked it a lot the first time I used it, which was most of 2020 or 2021, I can't remember which. It's not cheap: almost $25 as a one-time Amazon purchase, as opposed to Subscribe-and-Save. BUT for that money, you get a product that lasts you maybe as long as six months, maybe longer, depending on how often you wash your hair and how much you use. It is very easy to use too much. You can make it really last, measuring it out in tiny pumps with a lot of water, which works better anyway.
As my #4 item might suggest, I bought this specifically with travel in mind. I've been using and liking Not Your Mother's Curl Talk Foam as an easy, kind of minimal styler, accomplishing much the same effect: not super wavy, necessarily, but shiny and frizz-free.
Again: not influencer hair. But I don't mind. It just looks to me like healthy normal hair. And that's what I'm really going for, all the time. I love it when it is really curly, but I also love it when it isn't.
So I'm taking this product on the Norway trip. I'll probably wear my hair up most of the time, in claw clips or the default ponytail --- at least in half-updos. I'm not going to stress about styling my hair while I travel. But it's nice that I can not stress and still have some nice, natural results.
(Nobody has solicited this product review --- I just bought it and thought I'd talk about it)
ALSO:
While I'm waiting for my Aldi order (really needed to order in groceries today, as the husband has gone off to an appointment in our one car), I've been tracking down and sorting out little travel and packing details. Found the electrical outlet adapter I bought last year --- whew! For a long time I'd just left it in the backpack, and then I took it out and put it somewhere safe, and you know how that goes. But I found it.
I've also bought a cheap portable charger for my phone. The backpack has an interior cord connected to an exterior USB outlet, so that you can suspend a charger inside, which is a very handy little feature I'd like to use. I'd so much rather charge my phone that way, and just charge the charger using airport chargers --- it's a thing I wished I'd had last year and feel I'll use a lot, not just on this trip.
I've also bought a small set of packing cubes, another thing I wished I'd had last year. I still have the mesh zip-up laundry bags I got last year (for honestly not much less than these packing cubes, though the laundry bags were supposed to be the cheap option), so whatever doesn't fit in the compression cubes can go in however many of those I need. But I am hoping to make better, flatter use of the space in my pack, and also not to have to cram my day pack. Ideally I'd like to fit both items under the seat in front of me, as I was able to do on my trip to Dallas last time.
I think I'll just lay some stuff out . . . pretending that it's travel day, and that I'm wearing exactly what I have on right now for the plane . . . stay tuned!
OK, SO:
I'm pretty stoked about this.
Here's the capsule as I have envisioned it (minus underwear, bathing suit, and toiletries):
*5 dresses (plus the one I'm wearing right now --- could add Ocean Teal Willow to make it 6 + this one)
*1 pair of leggings (could make it two, but honestly, I think I could get by with one)
*2 pullovers
*kimono (which will be in my day pack)
*2 pairs of shoes + the Birks I'm wearing right now
*jacket
First of all, packing these two pairs of shoes, light hikers vs. leather boots, makes an enormous difference in how much room I have left in the pack.
The shoe pocket looks bulky, but the shoes are so slim in their profile that they pack almost flat when the pack is zipped up.
Meanwhile, I could fit all the clothes pictured above neatly into the body of the pack, even without compression cubes:
My chief objective is to fit my Gore-tex jacket in this pack as well, so I don't have to dedicate more or less my whole day pack to it.
Will it fit?
I wasn't sure.
But lo!
It does fit. It zips right up.
I haven't put in my laptop, toiletries, etc, but there are places for those things, and I know how they fit. I've been traveling with this backpack for a year now, and I'm pretty familiar with how to arrange those necessities. It's the bigger items, clothes and shoes, that need thinking about every time.
I'm glad I'm getting these packing cubes, because I want to have things organized in my pack, and if they can be compressed to take up less space, then that's a win. The slimmer my overall pack profile, the easier the management of it in airports and on airplanes. The more I can get in this main pack, the less I have to cram into the day pack.
I probably can take the extra dress, which I was thinking I'd like for layering, in the event that we encounter chillier weather than last year. The Willow will fit nicely over any other dress and has 3/4 sleeves, so it's a good option for changing weather conditions.
OK, Dora is hassling me to pay attention to her. I'm ignoring her as long as she hassles, but as soon as she stops, I'll reward her with some playtime, then her supper in her crate.
Groceries are here, too. Salmon for dinner, because that was what the husband felt like --- no arguments from me, really. Time to think about how I want to prepare it . . .
EVENING UPDATE:
Husband is insistent that I take my leather hiking boots, but says he is taking a suitcase and will pack them. So . . . okay. Maybe I'll be glad I have them. I also just ordered some fairly cheap rain pants on his recommendation. Nothing fancy or ethical --- just a cheap but reasonably well-reviewed pair that will roll up in my day pack for the trail and be ready to put on if it rains in the high country.
NOTES TO SELF:
*Right now the highs in Bergen are looking not that warm --- 66F next Monday. Of course, I remember its being like this last year, looking not that warm, then being quite warm all of a sudden once we were there.
*But I think, given that I have more room in my pack, that I will take more than one pair of leggings (last year I didn't need them, but you never know, and this year we're hiking more, in higher elevations). I could pack my cut-off Snag merino tights for a lighter but warm layer for my legs.
*I might put in a base-layer tee as well, just in case. My navy Patagonia tee could work as a lighter-weight pullover as well, and takes up hardly any room.
*I might pack my Tari boots in my backpack as well. I remember that I thought of this last year, and I didn't take them and didn't need them, but again . . . you never know.
*I'm already pretty sure that I'm taking my Ocean Teal Willow, even though I left her out of the capsule photo above.
*The good thing about my kimono is that it also works well as a scarf, should I need such a thing.
We were talking about packing again as we walked the dog before the rosary, and I wanted to jot all this down before I forgot about it. If I write it, I am far more likely to remember it (even if by "writing" I mean "typing").