I’m working to jiggle back towards a Fall schedule after a few weeks of local travel (our son and daughter-in-law’s place in Victoria, visiting girlfriends in Nanaimo, an anniversary weekend with my favourite guy on BC’s Sunshine Coast — where we hiked in a temperate rainforest, so that Sunshine Coast moniker comes with a caveat!). You’ll have noticed that I’ve been posting less frequently — down to once a week this last month or so. I’m not sure how much better I’ll do now that the days cool and shorten, but I know I have a growing list of “Things I want to tell you.”
I’m especially excited about the next post you’ll read here, probably on Sunday. You won’t need to pack for this, nor do you need to grab your passport or your proof of vaccination. No masks needed either, but we will be doing some travelling. Not only travelling, but I’ll be sharing the mic with someone who realized a dream this year, despite everything Covid-19 tried to throw in that dream’s way. If you’ve been reading here for a while, you may have guessed by now who my guest will be, but if not (or if you’d like to refresh your memory), pop back to this post from May 2020. And then come back on Sunday to read what’s happened since last Spring and to join in the conversation that will surely arise.
The vicarious travel I’ve been doing as I’ve worked with our guest on that post has sent me back to my own travel journals. You might remember from this post my resolution to organize my travel notes as I begin to build a timeline of art exhibitions I’ve visited. As I said in that post, I did manage to collect and roughly index a box of notebooks and sketch journals from about 2007 onward (I’m convinced there are a few pages still extant from 2005 and 2006 trips to Paris, but I’ve decided not to drive myself mad searching for them. Not yet, anyway).
And I’m going to harness this blog to pull me through this project. These pages from 2007 will feature in the first post in a series I hope to continue into the future. Coming to this space in the next week or two. . .
I’m also working on a post about knitting, about my hands, my mom’s hands, memories. Been working on it for a while actually, but slowly, slowly. Those shorter, cooler days might just change my writing pace. We’ll see. . .
And since we’re talking seasonal transition here, I’m planning one of those posts that always make me feel more than a bit uncomfortable, but that always seem to draw readers — one of those What I Wore posts. Already, I want to remind you that I don’t share these photos because I believe I have anything to tell you about Style or Fashion. Nor do I gain a penny for sharing them, having chosen not to monetize the blog. Rather, I’ve shared them through the years because I want to Normalize (as we’re saying these days) a diversity of representation for Women of (more than!) a Certain Age. And I enjoy expressing myself through What I Wear — and talking to my girlfriends (that includes you!) about that, occasionally. To leave that aspect of my self-expression out of the picture because I’m self-conscious about my appearance would be an editing too far, for this blogger. So I’m currently collecting snaps taken in my sometimes-spotty mirror as I head out the door on a walk. . . .
Here’s one of those, as a teaser. . .
The pink T was a Summer 2020 purchase, and the linen pants were added to my wardrobe this summer (heavy, velvety linen, they feel so luxurious, have been delightful to wear this summer with a sleeveless or short-sleeved top, and I think will work well in the fall, although not on rainy days — those wide legs in such an absorbent fabric will wick up water like a giant sponge!).
Hmmm, that’s four posts I’ve outlined, isn’t it? And then, of course, there will be my report on the books I read in August. Anyone care to bet on whether I get through all these proposed posts by the end of September? Really, it’s such a month for making lists and imagining the energy to start all the new projects. What about you? Are you getting ready to launch new undertakings? Cutting fabric to stitch new garments; clearing some desktop space to resume a writing project; renewing your commitment to morning pages; beginning to make travel plans (with a cautious eye to those fourth wave numbers); harvesting tomatoes; ordering a new stack of books; signing up for courses. . . . Or are you being wise and savouring these last weeks of summer, being gentle with your diurnal rhythms? Grasshopper or ant or somewhere in between? Enquiring minds want to know. . . 😉
xo,
f
I’m cautiously planning a trip to Vancouver in October to see the grandkids that we haven’t seen since before Covid and a trip to Victoria next spring with three girlfriends. Realistically, I don’t know if either of these trips will happen, or at least will happen when I’m hoping they will, but just planning them has helped lift my spirits.
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We’re actually at >90% vaccinated (over 12) here in the city, and I hope it remains relatively safe so that your visit can happen. I know what you mean, though, about the planning. Just having that broader horizon in our imagination helps!
I too have been quiet on my blog – not a lot going on at present and am focusing on my writing at the moment – in that late summer way. Gradually picking up the reins again when it comes to socialising, seeing friends and family, making plans for the weekends although weekdays are quiet. All of which I like, incidentally and it seems to be good for me. I am off to meet friends for afternoon tea later today and intend wearing the linen coat I made last year as a lockdown project and which has not yet had an outing. With jeans, probably. No rules to break, in my opinion.
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You always seem very diligent to me. . . and such a lively social life! I do hope you take pictures of that linen coat which will be marvellous with your jeans, I’m sure (My daughter posted a photo of herself recently, in the heat of late-August at an Italian seaside, wearing jeans (well-ventilated ones, holey stylish. . . and her caption was “Normalize jeans in summer.” . . . So then surely the next step is normalizing them with linen (we’re already there, right?)
I’m so glad that you’ve had such a beautiful summer….and that so many ideas and posts are in plan for us
I love the velvety feel linen although have never seen it IRL…
I have plans,a lot of them,all including so elusive handymen (a lot of them have left the country for better wages and the others are soooo busy because other people are making reconstructions after earthquake as well),so,it is waiting and waiting…. I wanted to travel to Vienna,but who knows….
Looking forward next guest post-I’m so happy that there are people who can make their dreams true,even during pandemics
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Thanks, K! I’m so sorry about those handyman — it’s so frustrating waiting to get projects done. And I’ll cross my fingers for you for Vienna — I know it’s one of your favourite places (you know I’ve never been, but I hope to, some day).
I am enjoying every little last drop of summer, while begining classes on Wednesday. Living by the beach my entire life, I’ve been in swimming in early October. Let’s not rush the seasons.
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You’re very lucky –and apparently quite hardy! 😉
I don’t know that I’m rushing seasons, but honestly we’re very glad to see some cooler, rainy relief from an unprecedented drought and wildfire season. Plus I wore one of my handknits today, and that was rather nice!
You sound refreshed and energized, but also relaxed. Love those pants.
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I do feel like that some of the days. (and thanks! I love them as well)
Sounds like you had the kind of summer you needed. La rentrée plans sound interesting.
Feeling bad for Dottoressa’s inability to get a handyman. There have been workmen in my house almost every weekday since the end of May doing renovations. Yesterday was the last day—some final painting. Very fortunate and very grateful that every single one of them was skilled, friendly and hardworking…all with them with a small family-owned company. Haven’t gone anywhere or done much of anything this summer except answer questions, offer drinks and have some interesting conversations with these fellows during breaks.
Your comment on the potential water absorption of your heavy linen pants reminds me of an incident back around 1970. I was wearing a lovely pair of wool, bell-bottom pants to a very cold, very rainy football game. By the time it was over, the length of my pants had grown by six inches. It was not a good look.
Thank you Mary :)!
Happy you!
You did a huge project!
D.
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You’re almost done! Wow! And congratulations! Now you can enjoy your renovated home.
Those pants, soaking up the rain — oh dear! I never had a wool pair, but I know exactly what you mean. It was a ridiculous style for our climate here, given that Vancouver and the West Coast earn their nicknames: Raincouver, Rain City, the Wet Coast . . . (did you ever call them “elephant pants”? Wider above the knees that a proper bell-bottom, though)
I have signed up for a lecture series sponsored by a local college, actually several series on various topics, one can take in as many of the classes as you like. Also I have begun volunteering at the animal shelter again. While the weather holds and we can dine outdoors, a group of friends and I will be trying various local restaurants. Trying to get together once a week. In October a friend and I plan to visit Mystic Seaport for the day. I hope by then this trip is still possible. I finally replaced my trusty Sketchers with a new pair of running/walking shoes. I purchased a pair made by Hoka, a brand I was not familiar with and recommended by the salesman in the athletic store. So far they have been quite comfortable. The last few days I have returned to writing some poetry. trying just to let it come and not be judgmental, at least for now. My creative juices, such as they are, had been dried up for some time. I am feeling grateful in spite of of all the bad news lately. Our area has just come through a terrible storm, with much loss of property and even life. I had no damage and my family is safe.
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You’ll be pleasantly busy, it seems to me between classes and volunteering and social outings. And Brava! for the poetry writing — and for suspending judgement and giving yourself permission.
Glad to hear your family (and home) are safe, but I imagine that you feel the pain of neighbours who weren’t as lucky.
I’m glad to be back as well… to blogging and to reading blogs. I have been mostly absent for a few weeks. And I’m now ready to plan my “day book.” Or my retired day book. I used to look forward to Stu’s being away canoeing the last week of August, and my getting ready for school… shopping for school supplies, for back-to-school clothes, getting my lesson0-planning binders all set up. Now he goes in early September, and I still like to shop and get myself organized for fall while he’s gone. Looking forward to your upcoming posts, Frances. XO
P.S. I’m chuckling about Mary’s extra long pants. Ha.
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I’m so pleased for you that you were able to get to NB and finally spend time with your mom — and those little ones! So cute!
Don’t tell Paul, but I’m pretty envious you have those days to yourself coming up !
I remember reading, years ago, an essay about September being the real New Year’s, as opposed to that January date, and I think there’s something to that. There’s no change of seasons in January, whereas September brings wonderful changes, the gradual lowering of the temperatures, the farmers’ markets overflowing with produce, the sense that even if you’re not a kid heading off to school, you are about to embark on something new and different. The French, of course, have bestowed the perfect name.
Looking forward to all you have planned for us!
It is indeed the time to get back to new projects (or old ones). I admire your ability to share your OOTD. I’m listening to too many negative voices these days and it’s inhibiting. I really miss the opportunity to live a separate life in a different country/language. You have managed with your Italian and French studies to make the best of our lack of travel. It sounds as though you have some really exciting news.
You sound and look great (love those pants) after your travels and visits with loved ones. Our summer was/is slow and simple as husband continues to heal from back surgery in May. We are watching local CoVid numbers and seeking wisdom as we begin to venture out socially. The Northern California fires have kept us from our favorite eastern Sierra spots. But living in a small coastal area definitely has its benefits! Got to watch our eleven year old twin grandsons take their surf lessons. Grabbed many a picnic dinner and ate at the beach while watching the sunset. Enjoyed avocados that hang over our fence from our generous neighbor’s yard. We are blessed. Side Note: my sister, who temporarily lives in Indonesia, pays $6-$8 U.S. for one avocado!
Yes, it is a long wait for craftsmen here, too. Our exterior house painting finally begins tomorrow. Ha…and the agonizing over “Will the trim match the roof tiles, will the new house lanterns be the right proportion, etc.” begins, too! Trying to decide if I should plant a fall vegetable garden. Still picking a few tomatoes here. Need to wrap up a quilt project. An invitation and a trip to the San Francisco area at the end of the month arose yesterday. Thinking of this list of potentials makes me smile while setting aside the woes of the world for a moment.
Frances, I want to send a very belated anniversary greeting to you. I’m afraid I was so concerned about my friend’s unhappiness that I did not send my best wishes for your own celebration. A Belated Happy Anniversary to you and Pater. It is refreshing to see how you both honor and respect your longevity.
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You’ve settled in so well to your new home, Charlene, so good to hear. Must be magical to watch those boys learning to surf. And I can only imagine picking avocados from a friendly neighbour’s tree — you’re living the dream!
And thanks again for the anniversary greeting. I took that from your earlier comment, if mixed in with your concern for your friend. xo