Last week invigorated by the cool morning air, we took a drive out to a small town just on the outskirts of Portland. It will not cease to amaze me the proximity of nature and sprawling farmlands that are so close to home. We randomly stopped into a town called Troutdale and parked the car and walked around a bit to enjoy a few early morning moments of cool air and watching the river run its course.
Later on that day it would be in the high 90s and considering all the running around I did on this day, a wool skirt was a really ill choice as I didn’t get a chance to change until much later in the afternoon.
Autumn to me has always signified change. I mean, that’s pretty OBVIOUS with all the leaves changing and all…but Autumn is when we prepare for the quiet Winter months. There is a stirring about Fall that I wish I could bottle up and drink in whenever I feel blue. And lately this week I’ve been feeling blue. The kind of blue where you know the source of it and the very thought of this source just grabs your gut and wrenches it about so carelessly. I’m feeling a bit numb to be quite honest and I sense my longing for these times to pass and for Fall to hurriedly sweep in and envelop me in her arms of amber, gold, and ocher.
Oh Mother Autumn, won’t you hold me close?
Later on in the week my friends Kate and Peter came by the house and brought me home baked treats from the MYRTLEWOOD cookbook. There is a Kickstarter for it right now and I invite you to check it out. The two cakes they brought were so incredibly delicious and I had such a lovely time chatting the minutes away with this lovely couple! I cut up some slices and gave them to our new neighbors. Look at me being so old fashioned and neighborly!
Lately I am reading a lot more and currently enjoying The Many Lives and Secret Sorrows of Josephine B. by Sandra Gulland. It’s written as if you’re reading Josephine’s diary. You know a decade of research went into writing these novels? Can you imagine! I immensely enjoy the descriptions of Josephine getting ready for a party or some other social event. You know if I ever found a young woman’s diary depicting what clothes she wore, the fashions of the time, and even the fashion “rituals” of her era… I would probably crap my pants from excitement.
Maybe someone will someday find my diaries from when I was 13-15 who appreciates this archaic form of “fashion blogging”. Back then I actually took to ink and paper to scribble down what I wore to everyday. I should suss these out of storage, they would make for good cheering up material.
Although, there were a lot of sad things going on then too, and well, honestly, I’ve had enough of this mucky yucky crap sadness. Once this all blows over, I will be tirelessly working on getting back on the Happy Bus.