Aug
4
Lately, for no apparent reason, I’ve been feeling down. Nothing is really wrong; I just can’t seem to escape the dark cloud I’m under. (Truthfully, I think I’m coming down from a big adrenaline kick in trying to deal with too much all at once.) All I know is, it feels like I’m having a delayed February reaction in the middle of summer and that just doesn’t seem right.
Believe it or not, colour is usually what cures it for me. Actually, I think that’s why I can’t handle the grey of overcast days (even though it’s the BEST for taking photographs). I think it’s because grey skies tint the landscape into a dullness where life once was; buried, blanketed, and bed-ridden. (B.C., are you reading this?) Just a little bit of poppy pink, flecked-hosta green, and candy-orange tiger lily are the exact things that perk me up when I’m down and dumpy, rabbit hole and all, and what feels like light years away (and then too close) to planet earth, the hearth, and all of it.
Since the weather has been acting funny in them these parts, the summer blooms have been coming and going at an alarming rate, rarely in sync with other flora, and so the palette I’m hunting for hasn’t really happened as expected. I’ve been cheating however. I’ve been spending time at Sephora ogling at all the pretty eye shadows set in sleek, black display cases. I’ve been zig-zagging my way through the accessories section at H+M and looking at what hit of “pop” can make the old feel new again. Oh, and I’ve been hanging around Williams-Sonoma; looking at the Emile Henry sets that are on sale, patting down orange-and-green striped dish towels, reading the ingredients on the back of the Sprinkles pre-made cupcake mix containers, and foolishly bringing up scented liquid soaps–completely sealed in plastic containers–right up to my nose, thinking that I’ll get a whiff of Meyer lemon and lavender amazingness if I just inhale hard enough.
So, I’ve been shopping, but on a leash. I call it RRT: Restricted Retail Therapy. (I’m trademarking that too!)
Sounds so medical doesn’t it! That’s because it is! Read more
Apr
16
Over the weekend, I was persuaded to accompany a friend to a small fête attended by people I hadn’t seen in almost ten years. The get-togeth was incredibly fun; catching-up with old friends, picking up where we had last left off as if no time had passed among us.
Well, for some of us.
For some of us, not only was there time among us, but a baby too. Big, beautiful, sighing, gurgling, sleepy-eyed babies, shaken and stirred, to stay up past their bed times with the rest of us.
Throughout the eve the babies, were coddled, caressed, cooed, blown on, bobbed and twirled around in front of the childless, for amusement. The men especially held the fort with folded arms in makeshift swings for baby, moving around the party in total jubilation of their new pride and joy.
That’s when the disconnect happened. Seeing boys with babies instead of married couples with children. Seeing boys with accessories instead of new families. Read more
