Visible Monday has new meaning around here as I’ve finally got a mirror installed downstairs.
I managed fine with only an upstairs mirror until Pater started spending more mornings here, post-retirement. I can tiptoe downstairs in the still-dark mornings to get ready for work, but I’d have to wake him to “check my look in the mirror” before heading out.
Between the many windows and the several skylights nearby, this mirror should work well for WIW posts . . . Still getting used to how it changes the space, the surprises it offers when the door to my office is closed, and I trick myself by seeing a window in the mirror.
Here, I’m wearing JBrand cords, Frye boots, my Mackage jacket, and a mohair lace shawl (an earlier version of this one) wrapped into a cowl against some bitter winds out there this weekend.
It was a weekend that mixed overflowing joy with profound sadness in the way life sometimes does, so confusingly. In the face of that complexity, forgive me for sinking back into the security of the superficial. It’s surprising how much comfort and celebration, at once, can be found in aqua silk-mohair knit into lace, scented with Kelly Calèche. . . .in a black leather jacket that’s worn its way into the shape of my particular hips, that offers a favourite lipstick from a pocket that had zipped that treasure away, from a pair of cords, one size too big, really, but of a colour that evokes, somehow, my 20s, even my teens. . . . the slouchy boots that have taken me all over a city, to dinners, museums, movies, holding a loved one’s hand. . . . Now why are you writing about boots, says Mike, from wherever . . .
Surfaces, depths, joys, sadnesses, mirrors, doors. . . .
My son, toasting Mike at dinner, remembering his big grin and his bigger heart . . .
Forgive the elliptical references, will you? I can’t bear to be more direct in this space, nor am I sure it would be appropriate.
Mater–I'm so sorry…
But the mirror is a welcome addition and you may find that the time of day adds a further level of complexity to your picture taking.
Thanks, Terri
And yes, I'm already wondering if the mirror will just complicate my need to get out of the house on time in the morning . . .
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I hope everything is OK.
If memory serves you were to be in town for the engagement celebration…
The new mirror is a great way to capture your wardrobe posts!
Take care,
Hostess
Yes, and we had a lovely celebration and did some serious wedding planning.
Life's experiences are often a mixed cocktail of joy and sorrow.
Yes, aren't they though?!
I'm sorry about the profound sadness and hope everything is ok.
Thanks for letting us get a glimpse of you and your home in the new mirror.
I'm a bit surprised at how much home the mirror shows — I'll have to make sure I've picked up!
I take it you are referring to the friend you mentioned a few posts back … condolences. P.
Yes, Patricia, a friend, neighbour, and colleague, he'll be much missed.
Condolences, and I am so sorry. I think the mirror will be a great addition. I am still working through those changes in my routine with not waking G and getting ready in the morning, new routines, new spaces and so forth.
I loved your musings about favorite clothes and the feelings they evoke, wrapping yourself in comfort and memories. in many ways clothes are not really superficial, they are our comfort and our armament in the world. Hugs.
Thanks for understanding.
Sounds as if you're looking for a new mirror yourself.
I must confess I do miss taking the odd sartorial photograph, but the mornings are so dark and gloomy and I struggle to keep on schedule despite the inane wittering’s of a man still lying in bed who allegedly works from home, yet appears to DO very little!
We lost a very longstanding family friend last year but we still discuss him as if he were there, the memory stays strong even when the body does not.
This friend had such a big personality that I know he'll be present in many ways for a long time. And his routes overlapped with mine in so many places . . .
My condolences to you, dear Frances. Life is indeed a complex recipe. Healing thoughts are sent your way.
Your outfit looks like you, and I can see how it would bring comfort and smiles. Thank you for sharing in Visible Monday.
Thanks to you, Patti.
Sorry to hear the sadness in your post. It is the roller coaster of life isn't it, the up and down. I do love your WIW posts though, and covet your Mackage leather coat. Ahhh, maybe next year?….
Thanks, Diane, and yes, it really is a roller coaster.
And I must say, I'm really pleased with the jacket — worth socking those pennies away for . . .
Mirrors, windows, the ellipses is our friend in many places. Hugs to you up in the wind.
Hugs much appreciated, thanks
Though your post was quite serious, it made me smile. You are so cute posing in the mirror. I also went through something very difficult in the last two weeks and something else in the last three years…but I just take everything one day at a time and just deal with that day. I hope you have a big dose of JOY this week!
Thanks so much, Pam, for the comments on the post and also for the advice.
The sorrow around this loss has as much or more to do with our concern for the widow — it was such a rich relationship spanning many decades.
It is not only "appropriate" to write about passages, it is real, and real is what you've always been for us. I will light a candle tonight for your dear friend Mike. With fond thoughts from one island to another…
Thank you so much for that comfort, Duchesse. I'm picturing that candle, its light, your island. . .
Life hits us with everything all at once – the sorrow, the flood of joy. It's too much, some times. I want my highs and lows in well-spaced doses. It sounds like you're managing, though it must be hard. Sending, as much as is possible, a comforting thought.
Mater, I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your dear friend Mike.
Mardel's comment about clothes offering comfort and armament sounds right to me. But most of all I wish you lots of warm hugs and am sending mine.
Pondside: It really does feel too much, sometimes! But thanks for the comfort; it helps.
Susan: Thanks, as well, for the good wishes and hugs.
I somehow missed this post, but this look is so….intrepid is the word that comes to mind. Like you're ready to hop into the cockpit of your biplane and survey the savannah. I'm so sorry for the loss of your friend. (I understand the feeling of just wanting to focus on the quotidien; it's almost the emotional equivalent of floating on your back on a summer lake, just for a little while.)
I love it! intrepid me pilot my biplane over the savannah!
And thank you for the comforting image. . . I'm going to escape to that summer lake when I can, I think. . .