July

In July
the park's distances are measured shaded spot to shaded spot
my path changes according to the angle of the sun
and breeze is a sacrement

Weirdness. There is Just No Other Word.

It has been a very weird day.  And was already by eleven AM.  I was at the nail salon (it's Friday, people!!!) chit chatting idly with a couple of other women while we waited for our nails to dry.  One I have known for years (and this is important, because I know she is a lawyer) we've done yoga together, taken classes together, I've been in her home.  The other was unfamiliar.  We were talking about the gym and various yoga teachers and trying to exercise in this weather, when the one I know pivoted a bit to the odd feeling of dread in town and said something about the election being to blame.....the rest of the conversation follows as best as I can reproduce.  (Picture all smiles and lots of bared teeth from everyone involved at all times.)

Me:  Yeah, it is strange out there.  Someone actually stole my Hillary magnet off my car in my own driveway last night.
Her: Oh, yeah, I would never put a political magnet on my car. (Other woman nods in vigorous agreement)
Me: OK, but I would never take anyone else's.
Her: Of course, but it is someone using their freedom of expression.  Just like you did by putting on the magnet.  They are just expressing themselves. It's the same thing.  (More vigorous nodding)
Me: Um, except one is expression on private property, and one is stealing....Stealing isn't legal.
Her: Drugs aren't legal either. (yes, apropos of nothing)
Me: Well I wouldn't break into anyone's house and take their drugs either.

At that point my nails were dry enough to run away.  It was such an oddly disconcerting conversation.

Now I don't know that these women are Trump supporters, (but I can't  help but have my suspicions). I do wonder though, how we have gotten to the point in our country where in a suburban town, a lawyer would casually argue in favor of theft of property as a way to express that you disagree with someone.  Weirdness.

Too Old for all the Clothes I Like

Once again I find myself pulling clothes off the rack, sighing at their beauty and putting them back without trying them on.  Coachella in my head. Flower crowns of the mind.  Once again,  I am way too old for all the clothes I like.  In my mind these long flowy togs look good on me.  In reality I would look like a short, middle-aged lady who got lost in the teen section. It's not as bad in the cold weather.  For fall and winter, I  can tweed and cashmere out and feel comfortable and fashionable, but come the heat? Chaos!

Yesterday I was shopping at Lord & Taylor and I was flipping through the racks next to a lovely young woman who had the unmistakable scent of McDonald's french fries on her breath.  And I'm sure she wasn't even beating herself up for eating them!  She was tall and willowy with gorgeous medium brown skin and dark eyes.  She had the most gorgeous pink headband  wrapped around a casual but perfect updo.  My guess is she was all of seventeen.   She may have even still had braces. We can't possibly like the same clothes.  Or we can, but I can't possibly wear them.  Or I could, but I'd look like an idiot.

And yes,  I know there are some clothiers who exploit that tiny bit of hippie chick urge by making things that are both age appropriate and yet still bohemian, (Calypso St. Barth's, I'm looking at you). But if you ever see me pay $150 for a cotton shirt, you'd better check my basement for pods, because that is NOT me!  Also not me?  Tailored jackets and structured skirts.  There really ought to be some fashionable, reasonable, warm weather in between.

Someday (soon?) maybe I'll be old enough to say "Screw it. I'm just wearing what I like."   Until then, I'll be haunting the racks looking for things that meet my warm weather style, won't break the bank, and won't totally embarrass me.  Wish me luck!