Someday

 

 

I loved today's post by Duchess.

 

Her sassy asides have always been a delight

but today's remark that she'll take her

jewel tones as jewels

made me smile.

 

I envied her quick transition.

If there had been a pneumatic chair

with scissor-wielding stylist at hand

I'd have sat down and told her to

lop it all off!

It's easily been seven years since I made

my first dramatically short cut

to make room for my grey.

I'm still waiting.

 

My hair was blond - very blond - and has

gradually darkened to

a color that I find almost impossible

to describe.

Think "mousy" with an

extra dose of "meh."

For years - years - there have

been lovely white streaks running

from root to tip

interspersed throughout my mane.

They refuse to merge.

There have been short haircuts several times

since the first was made oh, so many years ago. 

Hasn't helped.

It seems small comfort that, thus far,

 I've avoided the dreaded

skunk stripe roots when the

longed-for transition never happens.

 

The idea that Duchess made her decision and

started the process in August

- less than six months -

makes me crazy with envy.

 

My regular hair appointment is on the

calendar for next week.

I've had time to calm down.  

There will be no lopping.

This time.

 

 

 

Iconic Images

Do you need to see another picture of

any of the countless icons of Paris?

We saw them.

The Rodin, Picasso, and Cluny museums.

D'Orsay, Louvre, Notre Dame.

Le Tour Eiffel, L'Arc de Triomphe,

Luxembourg Gardens, Tuileries,

Chanel, Hermes, Louis Vuitton.

The list goes on... 

I have pictures and ticket stubs

and amazing memories

to enjoy when ever I want.

 

Today I offer a few of the humbler images

that will also represent Paris to me ...

 

 

including the cobblestones.

 

This is our terrace. 

 In our neighborhood. 

The three windows represent the hallway, living/dining area and the bedroom. 

 The building across the street was a community rec center.  One weekend it was used for an artisan's fair.  The next weekend it housed a vintage market.  During the week classes were held there.  I watched from the terrace windows as fencers performed their warm-up drills.  Dance classes included the tango and flamenco. Grace in motion.

 

 

Our wardrobe which, thanks to  

Naphtali's lavender sachets,

 smelled like summer sunshine when we opened the doors.

 

 

This is a terrible picture, but,

on the far left you can see that the women's skates are

made to look like high heels.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

I should have taken more pictures:

Umbrellas piled inside shop doors.

Dapper men in their toggle coats.

Laughing women d'un age.

Children.

Dogs.

Plates of beautiful food.

Display cases of beautiful food.

Windows of beautiful food.

Menus.

Impossibly small tables

laden with lunchtime paraphernalia

with the diners shoehorned in

around them.

The overhead coat racks.

 

Surely, someone has taken those pictures

and compiled a wonderful book

or created an instagram album

or Pinterest page

 to help us

relive the unique experience

that Paris represents

to each of us.

 

I'll have to look...

 

 

 

 

 

Bon Appétit!

In general there were three questions

asked after my return from Paris:

What did you see?

What did you buy?

What did you eat?

 

This was the most difficult

post to compose.

Hardly surprising when we consider how the textures,

aromas, presentation, and accompanying

soundtrack of conversation and clinking tableware
contribute to our dining experience
as well as the actual taste of the food.

Alors, in no particular order,

a few impressions:

 

Our breakfasts of variations on

 toast or croissants,

 cheese,

creamy yogurt,

and mandarins

were a delightful start to each day.

 

We cooked at home several times

with frozen selections from Picard (!)

or fresh-from-the-market ingredients.

Local-resident chic.

 

Bread.

 

Omelette Concorde at Ladurée?

Delicious in it's simplicity.

The macarons purchased on our way out the door?

Everything I expected.

 

Bread.

 

A leek soufflé with champagne butter

and caviar at Bon Marché?

Exotic.

(That's Naphtali's butternut soup in the foreground)

 

Fresh tomato basil soup on a rainy day stop at

Galleria Vivienne?

A reminder of why I leave certain

tasks to professionals.

 

Wine and frites to fortify us for the final

leg home on a late night.

Bracing.

 

Bread.

 

The arrival of my chocolat chaud:

two small pots

- one of chocolate,

one containing hot milk -

flanking the small white cup

in which I will mix my own drink.

Decadent.

 

We scoffed at the warnings of the dangers

of sidewalk crepes - until we shared one.
 

Haricots, mushrooms and potatoes

will henceforth elicit

an inside-joke smile from me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fragrant reminders

 

 

The official start of each day was marked with

 the invigorating burst of citrus

as the first mandarin

was peeled. 

 

(We consumed soooo many of these little gems.)

 

In the way that warm and cold currents run through

a body of water

the aromas of Paris washed over us in turn.

 

Baking bread? Check.

Melted butter?  Bien sur.

The sleepy scent of chocolate?  Mmmmm.

Falafel?  Just around the corner. 

 

Fresh cut trees.

Roasting chestnuts.

Espresso.

 

 

 

 

Flower markets.

Fish markets.

Herbs.

Oils.

Cigarettes.

The occasional cigar or pipe.

Today's special.

 

 

Lavender sachets.

Soaps, lotions,

and perfumes.

She chose SacreBleu.

 

Close at hand

 

 

My visit was further enhanced

by various tactile expressions: 

 

Vin chaud and a new wool wrap

to ward off the chill.

 

Stiff linen napkins at Ladurée.

 

The heft of silverware at Musée D'Orsay.

 

Heavy, elegant menus.

 

Chilled fingers

stealing heat from a cup of chocolate.

 

Silk wall coverings at the Carnavalet.

 

The supple warmth of

a nutella crepe.



 

Eric Bompard's cashmere.

 

The exchange of bills and coins.

 

Sorting through bins of used books.

 

Vintage furs, silks and leather bags.

 

New "furs" and silks.

 

Soothing lotions.

 

A hot shower and warm bed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Evocative echoes

I loved my trip to Paris.

It was a sensory-intensive experience

from beginning to end.

 

We had many drizzly, but mild, days of

walking to and fro

about the city, absorbing the nuances of its 

quotidian rhythms.

(I wish I'd snapped a shot of the le Pain Quotidian)

My clothing selection was

adequate

- which is all I had asked of it -

in light of the laundry

facilities in our

charming apartment.

 

So, what did I hear?

 

I was awakened several mornings by the

sound of the rasping broom of a

street sweeper below our windows.

 

 

This pianist livened the street corner

at a flea market on a dreary day.

 (We kept hoping the ladies would break into song.)

Rain on my umbrella.

Church bells.

The organ at Notre Dame.

A boy's choir performing the Hallelujah Chorus.

A piano recital in a nearby church.

The melody of conversation.

The whine of approaching motorcycles.

Car horns.

An accordionist on the metro.

Street musicians doing their best with the Beatles.

Laughing children.

The click of heels on cobblestone.

Late-night revelers.

The hushed reverence of memorial places. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Countdown

Next week at this time

we'll be in Paris.

 

This will be a busy week as final

preparations are completed.

 

Here's a section from my to do list:

 

finalize packing selections

go to the bank

get a manicure

pay bills

have my glasses adjusted

compile addresses for  postcards

avoid breaking toes

(or fillings)

 



Faux Snow Bunny

I like Thanksgiving.

Like so many

I have much in my life that

prompts a spirit of thankfulness.

 

Thanksgiving evokes tradition and

a nostalgia unmatched by other holidays

even though it seems to be increasingly overlooked

in our accelerated commercial

holiday season.

Regardless of personal preferences

and health-driven choices

we many of us I tend to revert to certain traditional

patterns and indulgences.

Or maybe I'm just weak-willed and

susceptible to peer pressure...

 

 

Today's outfit was pulled together to

match the retro vibe of the day.

With my "stretch" pants

tucked into snow boots, turtleneck, chunky cable sweater

headband and sunglasses

I felt like I had just stepped off a

vintage travel poster.

 

Over the river and through the

woods, indeed.

 

Hope you enjoyed your day.

 

 

 



Sunday Night

 

I baked an apple pie for some friends

earlier this evening and the fading

aroma is competing with

tonight's shrieking winds to put me in a

cozy frame of mind. 

I was actually on my way to bed

but the opportunity to cross one

more item from my list

was irresistible.

 

Our fall weather has taken a turn toward

winter which means

blankets and sweaters and coats

that would ordinarily not

make an appearance

for another month

have already been put into

 rotation.

 

These were my favorite shoes this fall: 

 

 fun and comfy, they've logged many miles.

 

These clogs from Dansko have 

proven to be a good choice

and have been perfect with jeans

or a skirt and tights.

 

Our flight to Paris leaves in less

than two weeks. 

My packing list has yet to be finalized.

The idea of being able to do laundry

tempts me to pack

light, very light,

 making every choice critical.

Or not. 

 

 

 

 

White Cords Option

White Cords Option by mllibrarian featuring naturalizer boots

Abercrombie Fitch button down shirt
abercrombie.com

J TOMSON yellow tee
amazon.com

J.Crew jeans
jcrew.com

Naturalizer boots
nordstrom.com

Tory Burch leather tote bag
$410 - monnierfreres.co.uk

Packing Report

This was the original packing list from our recent trip. 

I've crossed out the items I didn't use.

 

4 sleeveless/short sleeve layering pieces:

berry

gray

charcoal

ivory

4 long sleeve tees:

ivory

tan

charcoal

mustard

3 V-neck cashmere sweaters:

navy

gray

teal

3 button-front shirts:

denimish

gray/teal plaid

gray paisley(tunic length)

2 pants:

white cords

charcoal

1 navy skirt and tights

1 charcoal wool blazer

 

With temperatures unexpectedly warm

- upper 60s and 70s -

layers weren't necessary.  I never wore the blazer.

We didn't do any "fine" dining, so the skirt

remained in the suitcase.

 

It's reasonable to assume that many pieces

can be eliminated, because

in Paris I will have access to laundry,

but, December weather should call

 for some layering pieces, so

I'll be looking for that happy medium

to allow more room for

shopping!

 

These items worked for me.

The color combinations were easy and

flexible.  I felt well-dressed and appropriate

in my choices.  The white cords were

fun to wear, though I don't see them

making the trip to Paris.  My boots

proved to be very comfortable.  I had casual shoes

in the bag, which I did wear, and need

to decide which pair of

shoes will accompany my boots

across the pond.

 

Overall it was a relief to see how versatile

the carry-on bag can be. 

It eliminates a certain amount of "stress"

to know that I can do this,

though it's not a convenient system if there are several

overnight stops involved. 

Everything had to be loaded and layered

rather precisely in the bag

(it was full)

which made for less-than-fun repacking

every morning. 

I'm looking forward to having a destination

allowing me to unpack once.

 

 



Gratuitous Cute Grandson Photo

 

Meet Levi

the reason for our recent road trip.



Trial Run

 

This is the 22 inch suitcase I purchased for the trip to Paris

in December.

 

 

Tomorrow we leave for a week's travel

to the East coast, which is always a favorite

destination.

 

I'm using this outing as a trial run

for the December trip.

My travel guru strongly urged using

only a carry-on bag

which will be a new experience for me.

 

So.  In this bag - this very small bag - I have

4 sleeveless/short sleeve layering pieces:

berry

gray

charcoal

ivory

4 long sleeve tees:

ivory

tan

charcoal

mustard

3 V-neck cashmere sweaters:

navy

gray

teal

3 button-front shirts:

denimish

gray/teal plaid

gray paisley(tunic length)

2 pants:

white cords

charcoal

1 navy skirt and tights

1 charcoal wool blazer

yoga pants. cami and oversize tee

undies and socks for a week

1 pair of shoes

1 pair of slippers

3 scarves

cosmetic bag

my kindle

assorted charging cords.

 

My tote bag holds:

 a small crossbody purse

several books

wallet

aspirin and other necessities

perfume

lipstick

pen

My watch,

pearl studs and

simple hoops are it for jewelry.

 

Tomorrow I'll wear:

 tall boots (tan)

navy pants

ivory vest

the 4th scarf

and a long sleeve tee.

(which I'll leave at Naphtali's and reclaim on our return)

There is also a weather-proof jacket

which will be thrown into the back of the car.

 

Naphtali and Aidan have offered/agreed

to keep Charlie for us while we're gone.

This is a chance for them to see how a dog would fit into

 the new school routines and

we're glad to leave him with family.

So our trip starts with an overnight in

Minneapolis, which is

always a treat.

 

It all works on paper so we'll see...

I went in today for a manicure

- I love the shellac -

so my nails will be lovely

- and indestructible -

for the duration.

 

The forecast for next week indicates mid to upper 60s

with the possibility of a 70 thrown into the mix.

Everything is set for a great time!

 

 

 

white jeans 1

white jeans 1 by mllibrarian featuring cropped jeans

Boohoo flat top
boohoo.com

J.Crew cropped jeans
jcrew.com

Fiorentini + Baker ankle boots
net-a-porter.com

Brown leather purse
lotuffleather.com

Tory Burch scarve
toryburch.com

Memorial Day Weekend

 

We arrived in the Cities on Friday afternoon.

Tim studied the tree and devised a plan.

The first supply run was made that night so he

could make an early start

the next morning.

 

Last year - this same weekend - we helped move

 Naphtali and Aidan into this house.

A tree suitable for a tree fort

was on their list of non-negotiables.

 

 You're looking at one happy kid!

 



The injury to my foot kept me off the ladders

and on the periphery for this project.

They worked hard and nearly

non-stop through Saturday and Sunday. 

There was a neighborhood

gathering scheduled for 6ish Sunday night.

The tree fort was complete and

Tim had manned the grill by 5:30!  

 

Unfortunately there is no photo of the finished project.

Naphtali created a charming focal point

by hanging a few accessories

and arranging a table and chairs under the platform.

I've been told a rope and bucket has been added

to serve as a dumb-waiter.

 

We'll be returning to build a deck

under the upper-tier,

but Phase 1 is complete.

 

 

 



Accessories Count

 

We went to see Naphtali

and Aidan over the Memorial Day weekend.

We had a great time.

 

These were important parts of

"that look"

for Charlie and me.

 

 

I won't even try to tell Charlie's saga.

You'll have to be content knowing

he almost died,

but didn't.

 

My story will be abbreviated.

Hurt my foot,

saw the doctor - twice - and

have an MRI scheduled for next week.

I have hobbled, iced, elevated and tolerated

pain and activity for about two weeks.

 

 

 

 

 



Monday Morning

Productivity is over-rated.

 



Killing Time

Or waiting for paint to dry.

 

Nail polish

but you get the idea.

 

The shellac manicure has spoiled me.

Suddenly, the time involved in "doing"

my nails at home

has become intolerable.

Keeping my nails presentable consumes

 at least two nights a week -

nights that could be used for so many

other pursuits.

 

I use the nudest of nude polish

and keep my nails fairly short

so it's not a matter

of maintaining fire-red talons.

It's simply that they have to look "done."

 

Thinking it would minimize my OCD

concerning chipped polish, and thus allow me to coast

with just one session during a week,

I tried just a clear coat for

 shine and protection.  

It didn't work.

It's been three days

and I just couldn't take it!

I've just applied a quick coat

of color so I can go to work.

 

Obviously wet nails don't interfere

with typing

so the time would provide a good excuse

to post on a regular basis.

There is never enough time for reading

so wet nails would be the

perfect cover story

to curl up and read the night away.

 

Yes, it is a trivial complaint, at best,

and there is always a

suitable resolution

for such matters.

 

 

Faux Fuchsia says it best:

"Chipped nail polish still revolts me." 

 

 

 

Just to let you know...

... it's

snowing

 

 

and thundering.

In Season

The air has been filled with the

long, shifting V-s of

returning geese.

Their honking

alerts the casual

witness to this seasonal

trek pulling the eye to the horizon

where they hover en masse

looking for a place to rest.

 

We've also seen a flock of mallard ducks

and deluded and bedraggled robins

 huddled in the falling snow.

 

Within my four walls there

are signs of impending spring, as well.

This morning I opened the

storage space built into the fireplace shelving

 

 to retrieve some seasonal accents.

 

Today's bright sunshine is whispering that it might

be reason enough to debut

some "spring" clothes at work tonight...