Well, here we are, just flat out of solemnities between now and Easter. The long haul is before us. But the sun is shining on my eccentric pavement in the kitchen garden, and I can't be too downcast. It's good to gird the loins again and rest the liver.
Today's agenda:
*dog walk
*at least one essay for next week (I have three, OF COURSE, since I'll be traveling Monday-Thursday)
*engage the dog walker for the days I'll be out of town
*empty the dishwasher
*package and freeze the chicken thighs I cooked up on Monday before the husband snacks them into oblivion
*think of something Lenten to have for supper
I started the fermentation process for my dandelion wine yesterday:
*simmered the dandelion-flower tea I had made on Monday with orange and lemon (I just put halved fruits in, as if I were mulling wine, rather than doing zest and juice, so there's still some pulp in the mixture now) and raisins, plus sugar.
*When all of that had cooked together, I removed the fruit halves, poured the remainder of the mixture into a food-safe ceramic bowl, and let it cool enough to add yeast (if a solution is too hot, it kills the yeast --- you want it to be like bath water, warm but not scalding).
*Now it's fizzing away in the bowl. I'll stir it daily and let it stand for about ten days --- basically until I'm back from my travels. Then I'll start straining it into bottles to continue fermenting for the next several months before I cap them and put them in the cupboard to age for the next year and a half. Two years is about the sweet spot for aging flower wines. You can't drink them too soon. I have drunk ten-year-old dandelion wine that I had made and forgotten about, and it was drinkable (and obviously I didn't die), but the two-year mark is about right. Flower wines are a long game, but they shouldn't be that long a game.
At the moment it's looking very much like a witches' brew.
There are many more dandelions opening in the lawn, so I'd like to make another batch before I leave town. I'm going to run out of bowls and counter space, but oh well. Everything good has its price.
Wearing today:
*Wool& Audrey dress (S) in Black Heather, bought November 2022, last worn March 19. Wears in 2025: 7, possibly 8 --- there were days I didn't take pictures on my Memphis/Texas trip last month, and I vaguely think I might have worn this dress one more time than I have recorded
*Secondhand Not Perfect Linen Bay tank in Oatmeal (I think), bought February 2025, first year of wear
*Thrifted Chico's linen button shirt, bought December 2023, second year of wear
*Secondhand Birk Mayaris, first year of wear (but come next week, they'll enter their second year of VERY regular wear)
Yes, outfit repeating is in this year, but there's no rule that says you can't vary up the outfit you're repeating. This time last week I was wearing the same dress, button shirt, and Birks, and I felt great in that outfit, but today I said to myself, What if? It had been a while since I'd worn this neutral tank, and I thought it might be a fun layer, adding interest without a lot of weight and warmth on a balmy spring day.
This maxi dress does lend itself really well to masquerading as a skirt --- though it's basically an A-line, it's long enough to balance out tops like this, and fits closely enough not to feel or look like a tent under an umbrella. The soft smudgy charcoal gray looks nice, I think, against the soft earthy natural linen --- and against the cool soft periwinkle purple.
I also like the fact that while I don't exactly have light-dark-color-pattern going on in this outfit (unless you count the pattern of my sandal straps), I do have light-dark-color-texture: the subtly heathered wool-tencel fabric of my dress, the nubbiness of linen. I think there's enough quiet interest here to be going on with, at any rate.
I would like, at some point, to meditate on femininity and what that might mean, with regard to clothing . . . thoughts prompted by the designer Linda Wright, an American boutique owner living in Paris. I love her style --- but I've also had to come to grips with the fact that what looks like a million bucks on her would look like an overdraft notice from the bank on me. And it's not that one of us is "feminine" and one isn't --- it's really just that the female body comes in many types, and that the self-aware woman knows instinctively what she likes on her particular body type. I had to learn through trial and error that although I love the menswear vibe (and I do incorporate it, as in my button shirt today), it just doesn't feel, or look, quite right on my more curved body.
Even when I'm really thin, as I haven't been since my early 40s, I am still not the kind of spare, angular woman, with a lot of bone in her face, who looks really good in what I guess we'd think of as "masculine" tropes in clothing and self-presentation: trousers, button shirts, maybe even sneakers, minimal hair, etc. I don't think those things ought to be coded as strictly masculine, because there is a whole demographic of women on whom those clothes look better than anything else does. Meanwhile, women with more curve and softness in their faces and bodies (even when they're actually too thin) do often look and feel better with more fluidity and flow, if not outright feminine details like ruffles.
I'm still really coming to terms with the fact that I genuinely feel better in dresses. I don't think that this makes me more "feminine" than another woman --- it's just that I have come to know my particular body and personality better, and not to be self-deluded. I actually think that spare, angular women are, as a category, really attractive, and I have always wanted to be able to look and dress like that. I've had to admit that I'm not those women, I don't look like that, and their aesthetic doesn't work for me. In dresses, my body feels freer. I feel as though my clothes and my natural movements are in better harmony. I'm still hanging onto one pair of trousers for now, because I do like that pair of trousers, but we'll see how long I keep them (by which I mean, how long I even entertain the thought that I want to wear them). I don't love failed experiments, but they do teach me something --- so are not really failures, I don't think.
Again, the daily selfies, especially when I look back at them, are revelatory.
Speaking of, I'm back to my gooby bathroom selfies --- the plain backdrop is boring, but it does show up outfits without distractions, and if I'm looking at my phone, then I'm not having to figure out where to look and how to arrange my face for the camera. It's just a lot less awkward (if rather stupid) to make eye contact with myself in the camera lens and smile than it is to pretend to be doing something else.
And with zero audience, I feel less self-conscious about striking silly poses. This might or might not be a good thing, but I tend to be happier with these photos, even if they don't show me living a vibrant, enviable life in vibrant, enviable surroundings. No, I'm not on a mountaintop. I am in my bathroom. For all anybody knows, I spend the entire day in here. And what if I did? I have a Rich Interior Life, thank you.
Anyway, I'm not doing that. Right now I'm in the study typing this; shortly, once my hair has dried a little more in the sun (I diffused it for about half an hour to make sure my scalp was dry) I will walk the dog. It's a lovely day. I have much work to do, but I hope to be able to do some of it outside.
It's hard to believe that March is almost over, and that in a short couple of weeks it'll be time to put in the rest of the summer garden and move the houseplants outside for the season --- just in time for Holy Week. This Lent is dashing by, but I wonder if that's simply a function of its occurring mostly in March instead of February, the most eternal 28 days of every year even when it's not Lent. March just does gallop, in all its tumultuousness, and all you can do is hang on till you get somewhere.
I'm a bit overwhelmed by all I have to do --- a friend texted me to see if I wanted to get coffee this week, and although I always love seeing her, the very thought made my head explode. So we agreed on week after next, by which point I hope I will have found some pressure valve and released it. One thing at a time . . . and I haven't said yes to anything new in the looming future.
In the immediate future, meanwhile, I need to walk the dog.