Because the 4th of July Makes Me Think of the Ocean...

...And because I think  Lobster Buoys make lovely photographs.

Bobbles

I am trying to practice the cable knit. I am making a bag of cable knits which I do not particularly love but it is in a book I bought on sale. I am making it because I happened to find mercerized Egyptian cotton at the same same sale and it happened to be dead cheap. Because I need instant gratification, I bought it. And so here I am, having ripped the beginnings of my bag off my needles a third time and just started over again for the fourth time because my cable knits are too loose and I am not happy with my bobbles. Methinks this will be a frustrating work in progress. 

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Plaid

I promise I'm not going to start posting crazy dog stuff eighteen hundred times a day but this is too cute. Susie needs it. Scottish woman abroad need plaid in our lives.

Your Daily Dose of Lovely

Oh Oh OH! For wearing with everything, probably just jeans and flats, for carrying Susie around. For riding my bike with Susie in the basket (yes, she fits in the basket of my bike, it's fate) and having coffee in. Yes. I think so. Lovely, lovely jacket.

This is what my weekend looked like. Susie is, our vet reckons, a purebred westie. She has a silly little westie tail and a sweet little westie face. She's still a little stand-offish and our vet also reckons she might have been a puppy mill mama who was kicked out now that she is passed her puppy producing years. Poor poppet. She and I spent the weekend doing fun weekendy things. Like the vet, and the farmers market (where we got local unpasteurized cheese and pasture raised beef and bacon and chickens and our CSA baskets and cupcakes from a lady who let Susie lick frosting off her finger, and since Susie doesn't know about treats and families and snuggling I let her) and then Mum and I used every ounce of our sailing experience to tie knots and get a hammock up looking out toward the fields and Susie and I had a nap in the hammock and we listened to the lads unloading hay in the barn and Cuatro flitted around the back garden while the fireflies rose up from the grass. The twins were off at their various and sundry activities and Dad and the brother are still in Mississippi so it was just Cuatro and Mum and I. Pasta was made with CSA basil and pancetta and s'mores were roasted and we watched Star Wars of the old school variety.

Sunday we went to a cafe and sat outside and Susie was very nice to a little girl who pet her very gently and we called the Anti-Cruelty Society again and no one has reported a missing westie. Susie started following me around and slept very nicely in a crate next to the bed. Which is good. Because the Cat isn't going anywhere. Perhaps living in a big white house in the country with a pool will be less lonely with a rescued westie.

Dog

I came home from shopping (I got this, it's very cute in person) and Mummie had a dog in her arms. She has been telling me all summer that I need a wee dog, an older dog that won't need training or attention, that won't die when I leave it home alone. She found said dog on the road on her way home from the stable. She asked all the neighbors about her and no one knew anything. She asked at the kennel down the lane and they said that dogs have been dropped there almost daily recently by people hoping the kennel will take them in. Mummie gave her a bath before we got home and learned that she's house broken. We're asking at the humane society and all the local vets but this might be my dog. I am calling her Susie because she looks quite salt of the earth. Mum thinks she's a westie but we aren't entirely sure. She's in bed with my right now. This is her playing small spoon to Cuatro. I just love little dogs.

Party or Apparently Now I Have a House

We are having a party today. My contribution to this party has been bunting-y flag-y things. I made them from oragami paper and wool yarn. It was obviously extremely complicated and required intense craftman like skill.



I also am apparently living in my parents summer house. Forever. Or until I find a real job and or a real place to live. On the bright side I am the youngest person I know with a five bedroom house in rural Pennsylvania. And with a pool. I suspect this might be very lonely. I suspect that the Cat and I will spend a lot of hours watching movies and cooking. Maybe I will work on my graduate school application and not become a monstrously scary wicked witch who lives down a lane and devours children who wander this way. Maybe I should try to find roommates. Hmmmm. We will ponder.

Ika(n)t Live Without It

I have written before of my love of all things ikat so when I saw this dress this morning I nearly squealed at my desk. I was this dress in navy so much I cannot even cope. My brain hurts it is so beautiful. Somehow I will figure out how to make this appear in my closet.

Memo

I started this an embarrassingly long 8 months, yes, EIGHT months ago and I finally finished it on Sunday, but only because my family told me I wouldn't. Apparently if I need to finish something, all I need is for someone to tell me I won't. 

It's a little too kitchen-y for my taste, but it's kind of cool from afar. If you squint. And look fast. And squint more. 

Yes, I'm aware there's still pencil marks. I'm a classy broad like that. 

Closet Shopping

East Side Bride, who is excellent in all ways and shares a sick love of C. Gain, recently posted about shopping your own closet which made me think I ought to spend less time coveting hotness other people have and relish the hotness I have. And wear it more. This means you, crazy pink shoes. Here are three items of clothing I love so much my brain hurts but I never wear because I'm not sure how to wear them without looking ridiculous, all four of you readers are clever clever ladies who wear clever little outfits and don't look like homeless people. I, most of the time, look a bit homeless. Outfits are not my strong suit when it comes to actually getting dressed in the morning, with my own clothes. Does anyone have any genius ideas about how to wear these in an outfit? Thoughts? Feelings? EMOTIONS?



My friend Nina gave me these insane purple and green miracles. Thank you Marc Jacobs for your insanity. I want to wear them everywhere because I'm six-one in them but I can't actually find anything to wear with them. Sometimes when I am feeling very blue I think they are unwearable. Sigh.




Then there is the sparkly top. I have it in a dress and in a top and other than for the brother's album release party I have never worn either. I get freaked out by things that shiny so close to my face.




Then there is mum's coat. She bought it at Jenners in Edinburgh before I was born and it makes me feel super duper eighties and Crossing Delancy but in an awesome powerful, excellent kind of way, I need to not wear it with brown riding boots every single time I put it on. It's a bit TOO much.

The Horror Continues

Maybe this one?

22 June

Well I didn't buy things I don't need, although I almost did and it took a lot of will power not to. I did see two movies with my sister, finished a memo board that I started a whopping six months ago (but only because my father said I wouldn't) played some golf, threw clubs (shhh) because I'm terrible at golf, wore my new old converses, found an old autographed CD that I thought I had lost in college, laughed at the prospect of going to the gym and slept until noon. 

People are better at work, except those recouping from weddings, and others who are still in Morocco. The parrot is five blocks up and two blocks down at bird camp. It is still raining.

Here are my mother's lilies because they are fiery yellow-orange and bright and OH MY GOD WILL IT EVER STOP RAINING. 

For the Writing

I want these. All of them. For writing to everyone. Maybe you


.

Weekend

Everyone at work is sick or at weddings or in Morocco and I've been mostly by myself playing with art and researching the most pointless topics online. I like to be a wealth of knowledge of all things meaningless. It has rained nonstop. The parrot has kept me company. He commiserates for he is not in Morocco either.

But now I must bring the parrot to bird camp and go home. I will probably go to garage sales and flea markets and possibly go to brunch after which I will probably go shopping and buy things I don't need because I am 23 and impossible.

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And then, a weekend

These past two weeks have been a little crazy, with the meeting of Oldest and Best's fiance's handsome, funny, sweet friends and the chihuahua and Tres' new boyfriend hanging around like a love-stuck puppy, and a filly being born at my mum's best friends farm and the desire to clutch the filly (I am a horrible clutcher, I like to clutch) and the picking out of a new horse for Cuatro and the riding and lunging and training of that horse and the laying of fence for the friend (which makes me feel better about my horses being fed chinese herbs three times daily by our grooms who call me Miss) and the very unpleasant photos that surfaced on the f'book that made me want to jump out windows and stop eating cheesecake and the marble cheesecake I ate the next day anyway and the new haircut and the cuddly baby sister of the Oldest and the Best falling asleep in my arms at the bonfire before being passed to her dad who is the only person who ever calls me 'honey' and the swimming at the lake and in the pool and the baby goats for kissing and clutching (they don't mind being clutched) and the late night confession of love and being called darling by someone who I do not want to love me, or call me darling and the return of friends from abroad and lots of lunches and dinners and clutching and cuddles and Cuatro's best friends who I've known all their lives falling asleep in the backseat of my car letting me in on the jokes and giggling exhaustedly on our way home from the theatre.

I might stay in bed this weekend.

Above: The Oldest and Best's sister, dancing by the fire, before she decided that she liked to be clutched

Role Models

Laura Holt is my numero uno role model in life. I know that she was on television when I wasn't allowed to watch prime-time telly but still, she lives on in syndication and in my sick and unpleasant need to wear tweed driving caps all the time. I have recently started watching her magic again on Hulu and I remembered how much I love her shiny hair, velvet blazers, white rabbit convertible and excellent cat burglar outfits. I know it's warm and I'm suppose to be running around in sandals and light summery dresses but right now I feel like wearing super eighties clothes and Pierce Brosnan. Here you go. Dress like Laura. Wear a cap, fight crime, promote sexual tension you can cut with a knife and living in a loft. Live the dream.



Office:Shoes, Earrings, Dress, Bag
Silver Watch

Stake-Out: Cap,Sweater, Impossibly Wonderful Blazer, Jeans, Sneakers, Watch

Today

Things I am thankful for today:

1. Pizza and beer Monday night (although not thankful for subsequent hangover--I'm a classy   broad, I know--experienced at work today)

2. Navy blue blazers. I found an old one in the back of my closet that I bought at a Donna Karan sample sale while I worked there. It's made a reappearance in my life and I've worn it the last

three of five days.

3. My new old converse sneakers (dark grey. Grungy but can't mess with a classic)

4. Joe's Jeans which somehow make my backside look acceptable.

5. Manolo Blahnik ceruean blue shoes bought last year at the boutique's annual 70% off sale, a purchase which I never told anyone about. It's an investment okay. I wore them for the first time today and was in heaven. 

6. The Real Housewives of New Jersey. Amazing. SHUT UP.

Salon

Been to the salon. Loath salons. Mixed feelings about leaving with my very blond hair just a touch blonder and at my collarbone. It just seems so... so very.... exactly. But I am blond and it is such a useful length.

Oh rangerdom how sneekily you come in the night without me knowing it was happening.

Berries

From these mulberry trees come mulberries, which I do not like to eat but I like to pick and feed to Cuatro. I like picking them in the evening, stepping in the fallen berries and chasing the chihuahua around the garden.

Disappearing Act

I am farm sitting some goats, and a chihuahua and two horses and some mulberry trees and a pond with a boat and lots of trails. And slow slow slow dial-up interwebs, hence being MIA.

Saturday and Sunday I spent with the Oldest and the Best and her fiance and his friends who are all shockingly nice and kind and good to babies. Engagement celebration with grown up friends on Saturday night and then yesterday at Fiance's graduation party with mummies and daddies and siblings and grandmothers and cousins and lots of little people everywhere (I got to snuggle the Oldest and Best's baby sister, dancing with three year olds is possibly the greatest activity). At the end of the night when a lot of the cousins-eight-times-removed and the parents' friends had left we had a bonfire in the mountains and Lizzie (a friend of ours who teaches music) played the violin and we roasted marshmallows and I got the sleeping three year old on my lap. I think it is best when Bests marry lovely people. Photos will follow when I'm back at home with faster internet.

Toofs

I don't know if you've seen this or not but the blog is My Milk Toof and it's darling. Seriously, these teeth going on adventures might be the cutest thing I've ever seen (today, anyway).

Found via Jezebel

Antiques Roadshow

It's a little late for a weekend recap but for this caliber of awesome I'll make an exception. As I mentioned to all four of you last week, I was at the taping of Antiques Roadshow on Saturday in Atlantic City, NJ. We brought some lovely things that have been around my house for ages--mostly my grandmother's things--objects that every Monday night between 8 and 9 pm for the last few years my mother has listed off as things she would like to bring to the Roadshow should it ever come to the area. 

Unfortunately, as we suspected, most of our belongings were valuable only in the sentimental variety and we didn't make it in front of the cameras. We did find out that my grandmother's porcelain Mycean figurines which we thought were fake are in fact real and somewhat valuable, which is nice to hear considering we have (small) a collection. 

Meager valuables aside, I did get to meet the Bros. Keno and I'm kind of a geek so I may have had a nerdgasm. And by may I mean I did. I couldn't speak. I died. It was a fabulous day.

Above, NOT Bros Keno, but he has ceramics, so there.

Sliced Bread

And these would also help. I know posh notebooks are a bit overdone but I just love them (and admittedly I am the white person in question)

Hiding

It's hiding time again. Bring me these, I think they'll help.

Weddings, Mountain Tops

Had dinner with the Oldest and the Best. She's decided to have a fall wedding in the afternoon at Penmar. A stone's throw from Camp David, the park looks out of the valley. In the summer jazz bands play every Friday night and in the olden days people came out from Washington DC and stayed in little cottages and danced at Penmar. Since only sisters are going to be bridesmaids I think I can wear a plum dress and silver shoes and maybe catch the bouquet.

Grey and Green

I take a bus every day, twice a day. To work, from work. Down the busy street, onto the highway, over the bridge, onto another highway, past the airport, over the skyway, through the tunnel, across 42nd Street, up Madison Avenue. Down Fifth avenue, across 42nd Street, through the tunnel, over the skyway, past the airport, onto another highway, over the bridge, up the busy street. 

There is a strange and beautiful thing during the latter part of this mundane journey between onto another highway and over the bridge. There is a house, a boxy, old house. A house with greying white paint. It is on a street that leads to loading docks for the big boats coming from Japan and Singapore and Hong Kong. There is a truck parking lot across the street and a gentlemen's club on the corner. Next to that, the house with worn white paint. 

It has a (bright) white picket fence, this house. There's a rectangular porch that stretches out from the back of the house that a rickety green lawn chair sits on and beyond that porch with the picnic chair is a garden.

It is a stunningly beautiful garden that I can see from above as my bus creeps up the arch of the bridge. Green trees hang over a stone walkway that meanders around the yard and ends at a stone fountain. Flowers spurt up along the walk at times blocking the path. It is overgrown in the most perfect, natural way. I like to think that a stubborn old individual lives there, a man or woman who refuses to leave his or her home despite the collapse of the neighborhood; an individual who still believes in beauty and color in a world of grey pavement. 

Image via flickr

Snuggle

I love Katy Elliot a lot. How could you not? I want to stay in her guest room and probably take the bed with me when I go.

Barns

Are for hiding in. Just in case you wondered.

Gardening

It is raining in Mercersburg. In honor of Mummie's Birthday (for which she received tweed and scotch and a food basket from the old country as well as flowers and books) it has spitting Scottish rain since Thursday Morning. We plant flowers in the rain, because she are Scottish and doesn't mind rain and we are her children and don't mind being rained on if it means we can chuck mud about. Mummie and I did some intense garden center shopping on her birthday and have been digging in the dirt for two days, barefoot in shorts and macs. I like dirt. I've been MIA because of the dirt. When all the dirt is full of planted things I will com back. In the mean time, go buy some pinks and plant them. Dianthus are so lovely.

Sleep and Eat

When I was a kid and stole downstairs late at night I would often find my dad in the kitchen. Reading and eating a bowl of Cheerios. My dad loves Cheerios. Later, in high school I would come home at three and four in the morning to find him awake, not cross with me. Just up. Thinking and eating his Cheerios. He tells me about the Russian revolution and whatever he heard on NPR that day and tells me about the book he's reading about current events. He is very into Current Events. He is the most serious eating Cheerios in the middle of the night. He is in Mississippi still. Left behind working while we flee the heat for the summer. I have recently found myself leaning against the kitchen counter in the dead of night reading the New Yorker and eating whatever is on hand. Avocado last night. What is nicer than an avocado with salt and pepper on crackers in the middle of the night? Anything? No.

Headband Beauty

I saw these beautiful do-it-yourself headbands over on Once Wed via One Pretty Thing. I would like several filled with feathers and sequins. Eff weddings, I'd wear these with jeans. 

Bed, an Update

I feel like this is kind of cottage-y, sweet, will go with my grey walls and my white bedside tables and my white dresser and my desk from Gramercy Park. It could also be beaten to shabby mess pretty quickly. Hmmm. Maybe.

Shop, Bake, Wrap

Running around madly shopping and baking etc for Mummie's birthday tomorrow. Details tomorrow, although I'm not convinced that she has ever read this.