|I would like to have these to wear with my fantasy dress.|
They remind me of the first time I went to London, in the 90s. Everyone was wearing shoes in ice cream colors
Very long day at work, but a large chunk of it was at a meeting room in the library. I picked up a book about the origins of The Odyssey (which I will be teaching in the fall), because it was enticingly arrayed with the James Joyce books out for Bloomsday (fun looking article about which here).
At the library I saw a woman wearing white capri pants with a large widely spaced floral pattern in clear toned pastels. I'm not much of a pastel person, but this print was unusual, the quality of the color was like someone had taken crystalline animation cells and transferred them to cotton. I would like to own these pants. Better yet, I would like to have a summer dress with this fabric. Something self-consciously demure, sleeveless with gathered shoulders, a round neck, and slightly cinched, softly pleated waist, knee length. And I would like a pair of ice cream pink shoes to wear with it.
I also saw a woman with earrings that were giant dusty red paisleys. I want those too, for a different outfit.
Reading: I finished For the Time Being. If this blog were a private commonplace book, I would inscribe the final paragraph here. It is so perfect and beautiful, a tiny, simple narrative anecdote that somehow manages to sum up everything the book has been about. It made me gasp, and then when I read it aloud to David, it made me cry. I don't want to write it out, though, for fear of spoilers. I want you to go read the book and find it for yourself.
Writing: Are you nuts?
Dinner: I had a turkey wrap and salad at a work meeting, but the kids, who have a swimming lessons on Monday evenings with a 45-minute gap in between, at a picnic at the pool with sitter Sarah of cold pizza (baked at home in the morning by their loving father), black olives, and mangoes.
Soundtrack: Please write be a parody/tribute song called "Kick Ass Women" to the tune of "Juke Box Hero." Thank you very much.
Also, the Mozart Sonata for Two Pianos was on the radio when I was driving home after an 11-hour work day. It reminded me of how much I wish I played piano.
Random thing: Taking O to camp in the morning, we drove past the art museum, where they were washing the windows of the big glass-walled room facing East Boulevard with squeegees on the longest poles in the world. These poles were two-stories tall. They were precariously bendy, and had the air of something slapstick about the happen.