This view again, with morning sun in the leaves. As monotonous as these photographs can seem, it's fun to track the same scene through the seasons, from the spareness of January to the still-lush green of midsummer, before things start to seem too scorched and tired, as they do by mid-August.
Today's projected high: 97F, with 86% humidity.
Of course, in my yard things already look kind of scorched. All the flowers in my planters have died in my absence, so I need to go find some marigolds or something to put in, and then remember to water them. My kitchen garden is a weedy jungle, but yesterday I did harvest some cucumbers and zucchini and a handful of blackberries. My husband grilled burgers last night --- beef and buffalo --- and I made a side salad of quinoa with cucumber, tomato, basil, dill, and feta, with a drizzle of olive oil and white-wine vinegar. It was all very good, and with the Artgirl we had some Riesling that we'd bought in Norway and then not drunk, so brought home wrapped in clothes in the husband's checked bag (I guess it's useful that one of us is willing to check a suitcase . . .).
I spent all yesterday thinking it was still Wednesday, but today is FRIDAY . . . must procure some fish.
Last night, of course, was fireworks for the Fourth, a holiday I like in principle but am coming to loathe in reality. I didn't think anything could be more pitiful than our old dog, Lance, who used to hide under the kitchen table and shake until his teeth chattered, but Dora, man. She's a whole next level of terror. She spent the evening pacing back and forth over me every time I tried to sit down on the daybed, and to claw her way into my lap if I sat in a chair. She shook and panted. She pinned her ears back and showed the whites of her eyes. Finally I put her in her crate, with the white-noise machine on pretty high, because she wasn't going to be any more terrified in there than she was on the loose. I had to sit beside her until after midnight, when the Trazadone I'd given her kicked in and the noise outside started to die down.
She's still asleep now, at twenty minutes to nine in the morning, and I don't blame her one bit. The rest of the weekend is probably going to be similarly rough, because if there's one thing people in my neighborhood like doing, it's setting off fireworks. Which, again, I also like very much in principle. I just hate them in my current reality. Note to self to start desensitizing her to the noise --- videos of fireworks it is from now until next year.
Today's agenda:
*Write one more Substack essay for next week. Also, think about fundraising strategies. We are not doing well financially, with increasing subscribers (good) but a shrinking percentage of paid subscribers (not so good, considering that this is both writers' steady gig, and while it is a labor of love, neither of us can afford to do this much work for essentially free over the long term).
*Peck away at an old fiction project that has suddenly resurfaced in my mind, with ideas about how to make it work. We'll see whether or not I actually can make it work. So far I have not been successful, but readings in various world mythologies and fairy tales have held out for me some glimmers of possibility.
*Read the magazine poetry-submission slushpile.
*Walk the dog and tire her out during the day, so that maybe she can calm down faster tonight when the inevitable noise begins again.
*Spend some time with the Artgirl and her boyfriend, who is flying in from California today and going back with her to Seagrove, where she's living this summer, for a visit. She says that her day-job cafe co-workers, who are all "middle-aged country ladies," are determined to introduce the surfer boy to Southern delicacies such as grits, which apparently they serve in various delicious ways. The imagination, apparently, boggles at the idea of a life spent not eating grits.
*Order groceries. The husband brought home some essentials yesterday, but I need to replenish the fridge and freezer after our long absence.
*Clean up my Birk hiking boots and prepare to post them for resale. Part of me hates to do this, but they hurt my feet. I've been hoping that they'd break in enough not to hurt, but the big hike we did in Norway two weeks ago told me otherwise. I'm going to replace them with another pair of boots that I will wear more comfortably in the winter, and continue to wear my Xero Mesas for hiking, because those are the absolute bomb. I might clean up and resell my Birk Madeiras while I'm at it. I've worn them for . . . three? . . . years? . . . almost? . . . and on reflection, I really have not loved them in any outfit I've worn with them. I'll have to sell them cheap, but then I bought them cheap, and it's time for them to move on. If I want to add more shoes, I think it's time to re-home some, too.
Wearing today:
*Secondhand Not Perfect Linen Smock dress (S/M) in Dark Blue-Gray (I think), bought December 2023? I already can't remember. But I think December, not January, because I'd already decided on a No New Dresses rule for 2024. Last worn as my Sunday Mass outfit on June 9. I really missed this dress while I was in Norway, though I wouldn't have worn it, I don't think, while I was there.
*Secondhand Birkenstock Mayaris, last worn yesterday.
If you noted the projected high for today, you'll understand why I'm not even trying to make any kind of finished outfit. My goal is for my clothes to touch my body as little as possible. I really do love this airy dress, which does in fact touch my body as little as possible, while breathing and drying quickly. It's the perfect summer dress, and I'm so glad I have it. Really it's a great year-round dress, good for layering with tees, collared shirts, and sweaters, good for wearing with tights, leggings, and boots.
But it shines on its own in the summertime, just as I had anticipated when I bought it last winter. I'm so happy to reunite with the linen things I didn't take to Norway --- they wouldn't have served me well there (I did take one linen button shirt and hardly wore it at all, as things turned out), and absence has made the heart grow fonder. My wool dresses will probably have a well-earned rest for the next little while, though in fact I didn't wear any one dress overmuch while traveling. And they also wear well in the summer, which always surprises people, but it's true. They're certainly no warmer than any synthetic fabric, and are at least as cool as cotton knit, with better drying, moisture-wicking, and antimicrobial properties. I started wearing wool in the hottest part of the summer of 2021, and have worn it pretty much daily through the last two summers --- it's nice to reintroduce linen into my wardrobe as an alternative, but anything I might say about these linen dresses certainly applies equally to the wool ones.
I'm really happy with my year-round core wardrobe. It hasn't been hard to adhere to my "no new dresses" policy for 2024 (with the exception of that black linen dress for choir, which I don't regret buying), or hard to adhere to the "nothing new" rule, either, which has still allowed me to fill in around the edges, with skirts, tops, and shoes --- things I've found useful in making my wardrobe work for me through the seasons. I'm also happy, at the moment, with having my wardrobe consist of overlapping, interlocking capsules, not just one overall capsule. It's very nice to come back from two weeks of travel and give one very defined wool travel blue-green-teal capsule a break, in order to wear another, loosely defined as "The Linen Capsule."
Not sure yet what rule, if any, I will set for myself in 2025 --- seems a little early to be thinking about it, though on the other hand, tracking my behaviors related to clothes buying NOW is helpful. So many of my patterns currently are related to the fact that I have been making at least a little money of my own. For years our household budget just included a line item for clothing, because I wasn't making any money consistently, yet we all still had to get dressed. Those were the big thrift-store years --- and as I've written here before, that was not always as economical a situation as it might have been, and resulted in my amassing a wardrobe that didn't make me that happy. I am a lot happier with my move to targeting investment pieces and using those as the set of fulcra on which my little constellation of wardrobe capsules turns. It's more money, sometimes, on the front end for a given piece, but those pieces have returned very good value so far, and made it easier to shop for the bits and pieces that complete outfits.
My husband, I must add, has never been anything but wholly generous, in a way that seems to me to be a foundational principle for a marriage. His income was our income, full stop. I have never, in the whole course of my marriage, felt that I was being given an allowance, and my spending has always been my business, no questions asked. Likewise, whatever money I've acquired has been ours, not mine exclusively. And I think that one of the greatest advantages in our marriage, maybe the single greatest driver of long-term happiness, is that we both genuinely want the other person to have what that person wants and needs. Generosity is a thing you learn, and I have not always been great at it, in relationship terms. I have too often asked, But what's in this for me. If there's one thing I admire about my husband (actually there are many things I admire about him), or that contributes to my essential trust in him, it's that he has never wanted me to feel deprived or shortchanged. The least I can do is to return that desire for the other person's sense of well-being, and the desire to protect the other person from any perception of scarcity. (That doesn't mean we haven't experienced scarcity, or that we haven't had to adjust our expectations about what's realistic for anybody to have. But as a principle for marriage, I think this works. Nobody should feel that they're giving up things that are important to them for the sake of the other person, though what constitutes "giving up," in some circumstances, may be a matter for negotiation).
Still . . . as I have made some money, it's been nice to use that for some of my own purposes, rather than drawing from the house reserves. In months where I've made more money --- because as a writer, I have big months and not-so-big months, depending on what I've done and when I get paid for it, as well as how much, which always varies --- it's made sense to me to consider what my priorities are in the way of clothes (because let's face it, I like clothes, and they're always going to be a priority) and how much I might spend on those priorities while I have the cash to spend. Most of my personal income still goes to the house fund, which is nice. I like contributing. But in good months, it's also meant making some targeted "investment" clothing purchases: good dresses, good shoes and boots, and so on, things I hope to wear with frequency for years to come.
Right now I have no idea what my own income picture is going to look like in 2025. As I say, at the moment the Substack is not flourishing as a generator of income, though it is flourishing in other ways, and I really hope my co-writer is not going to give up on it. Mind you, I understand his concern about this aspect of it. Mine is a two-income household, with my husband's salary as our primary income. That's how we pay the mortgage, insurance, and other big monthly expenses. My income is kind of the icing on the cake, giving us a little more leeway for groceries (which is good, because food prices are through the roof --- food in Norway did not seem that expensive this year, if that tells you anything), and me a little more leeway to donate to Go-Fund-Me projects and other causes, which is a thing I like to do, in addition to buying stuff for myself. I take very seriously the giving of alms, even as I take very seriously the buying of clothing.
My colleague, on the other hand, makes his entire living by his pen. He has a mortgage to pay, food to buy, etc, and he does it all by writing. His great hope has been that the Substack would, fairly quickly, become a full-time job in terms of financial return --- how realistic that hope might be is an open question, but I understand his desire and need for that outcome. The work amounts to nearly a full-time job. We both have to balance other paid writing work against the time and energy we're spending to research and write these five pieces each week. So if the Substack becomes more of a drain than a boon, financially, I can understand his wanting to pull the plug on it, or at least to back down what we offer to some more manageable level, and just accept that it's going to be a hobby, not a job.
All that to say . . . well, it's on my mind. I'm writing about it here not to prompt any reader to do anything in particular. I'm not trying to get you to upgrade your subscription. This is not a pitch. I'm just thinking about it, and writing things is how I think. All of this comes to mind in the context of considering what my purchasing guidelines for myself might be in the next year, when I might or might not make the same kind of money that I have made so far this year. If I have to tighten my figurative belt, that's not bad, really. It's not like I'm really lacking in anything. But I won't know until I know, if you know what I mean.
Of course, if I don't have to tighten my belt, that's also not bad. I just don't know which way the wind is going to blow, and there's nothing to do about it but wait and see. Meanwhile, for the moment the monthly income from the Substack is way down, so that will influence my decisions for now. I'd already declared a no-buy for the rest of the summer --- though I do have my eye out for a pair of boots for the winter, since summer is generally good time to buy things like that. My no-buys always come with built-in caveats. Still, I had already decided to resist the impulse to buy one more cute little linen thing, and simply to wear the clothes I have, because I have them and they're here to be worn and enjoyed. And I might restrain myself for the moment from another investment purchase of boots (though I do have my eye very much on a secondhand pair), just because.
But at least in my personal arena, it's really all good. I don't mean to go on about finances, except to consider all the variables that might influence my planning into the next year. If I tend to ruminate about things, which can be not so great, one positive upshot of that tendency is that I'm less likely simply to react to circumstances. Having a plan in mind, or ideally a range of possible plans, is good for impulse regulation.
Here's a photo of my lovely quinoa-feta salad, which I'm eating for lunch:
Also: Day 2 hair still doing all right by my standards.
Yesterday it felt almost a little too product-y, and I considered that I might have overdone the gel, but today that feeling has decreased considerably. My hair is not not-frizzy, but textured hair is just going to be textured. That doesn't make it bad, or even messy. Very few people naturally have hair the texture of glass. It's fine for my hair, which is not naturally that textured, to have the texture that it does have.
I like its thickness (though it's not nearly as thick as when I was young), its movement, and its overall health. Even if it's not glass-slick, it is shiny. It's healthy enough, too, not to have too many of the tiny flyaways that can make hair seem rough, and not too many split ends, either, though I haven't had it cut since last October. The first move, truly, for having your hair look its best, is to do what you can to maintain its health. Trim the dead ends (note to self, because I do know they're there). Avoid sources of breakage: hair elastics, even those coil hair ties, are prime candidates, as are barrettes, especially metal ones. Choose a silk pillowcase to avoid stress to your hair while you sleep. Use clips and scrunchies for updos and ponytails. Avoid heat whenever possible, and handle with care. Choose gentle products that will cleanse and provide hold without stripping needed moisture.
And if you have wavy or curly hair, don't brush it when it's dry. Comb as minimally as possible to detangle.
All of this will help maintain shine and vigor. A good haircut --- maybe a tapered shape instead of straight across, with some blended layers --- will also help hair look more styled and intentional when you wear it down. I'm still on the fence about how many layers I want, which is one reason why I haven't had a haircut in so long. The shortest layers from my last cut are just now growing out to a length that doesn't bug me. But I probably will go for that familiar template: tapered shape, blended long layers. That, with my basic routine including gel, helps make my hair look as though . . . well, maybe not as though I tried that hard (because I didn't), but as though it does have some style, instead of just hanging there.
Also, I really like this length, though I'll probably let it get a good bit longer before I cut it again. It works well for updos without being too much hair. But it also does well loose, without looking like I've "let myself go," whatever exactly that phrase might mean. As I approach sixty, I'm determined not to look like every older-woman makeover where short hair takes years off her face. Dude, I know how many years are on my face. No need to pretend here. There's such a thing as hair too long to manage --- takes forever to dry, doesn't go into an updo well, just starts to feel like too much in every way --- but I felt that way when I was 30, too, literally half my lifetime ago. It's not an age thing. But I do like this current length and shape, which I want to note and document so that I'll remember I felt this way. I'll let it grow out more, because I want the layers to grow out before I do anything else, but it would be good to return to this as a default.
At this point I'm now actively procrastinating about other things I need to do, so I had better sign off and go do them.
LATER:
Of course, when the day really heats up, and you start to melt, there's nothing wrong with putting your Day 2 Hair up in a fast, messy bun.
A little hair thinning in front here . . . time to up my collagen intake again . . . but it's up off my neck and out of my way.