The following content may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through the links below, I may receive compensation.
Slivers of joy from this week —
More boy than baby in the eery 80 degree November weather we had this week.
Bringing treasures from Italy to my in laws in my favorite knit jacket.
Puzzle season — such a clever metaphor for self-care now that I think of it: seeking small bits of color, and shape, that fit.
A thrill to watch my boy fall in love with reading, and begin to see the text-heaviness of the world come into focus. We are deep in the phase of “what does ONLY spell”?
I brought my children to Georgetown Visitation, my high school alma mater, last weekend, and found myself throttled by memory on this visit. When I think of the school now, I think of Elizabeth; the two names ellide. Grief, and memory, operate in such a way that some places turn into people, or maybe it’s the other way around. Anyhow, I think so often of Elizabeth running across the slatted footboards of this specific stretch of balcony off the campus’ quad. I can almost feel her there now. I asked my children for a nice picture as I stood here wavering with farklemptness, and this is what I got — ha. But it’s OK; their silliness presented as an unexpected therapy. (What would it be like, I kept wondering, if she were still here? Would her children also stand with them? Foolish daydreams, but –)
Herds of memories here, in my high school’s Founder’s Hall, and through its iconic green gate.
My girl on the bench my classmates and I dedicated to Elizabeth.
My son, mainly delighted by the treats. We have entered a tough era of getting him dressed. To begin with — is this a boy thing? — the minute he gets home, he strips off all his clothes and refuses to wear anything but boxer-briefs around the house. You cannot ply him to put on a stitch of clothing beside. And when we are going out, everything in his closet is “too fancy.” They are not, of course! I have completely reversed my more stringent dress codes of their earlier childhood years, determining that was not a battlefield I wanted to die on. They have sweatpants and t-shirts aplenty, like all of their little friends. But sometimes, when we are going to dinner, or Mass, or visiting with grandparents, I request an actual pair of pants (jeans, even!) and a nicer looking top (even just a sweatshirt with a clean motif), and all hell breaks loose. He did however delight in his new Pehr shirt — it has a New York design to it that he loves, as a New Yorker by birth himself (the brand has other patterns). He has also liked this teddy bear fleece sweatshirt from the same brand, seen below.
I know all parents believe their children are the most beautiful creations on the planet, but he really took my breath away this morning. And per my previous note on clothing he deems “unfancy enough to wear,” thank God for Cadets shorts. He loves them, especially “the club” style (more of a performance material) and their retro-style mesh shorts, and so do I.
My in-laws’ dog, McDuff, and my girl, sharing a special moment. Partly spurred on by that gorgeous, searching essay by Na Mee that I shared earlier this week, I thought a lot about our Tilly girl. It was such a gift to know she was leaving us, and to have that time to love on her before she went, to have the clear-eyed awareness that I was sitting in the middle of “the good old days” with her at my feet those mornings before she passed. Normal day, let me praise you…
Spurred on by my love for Rooney’s recent novel, Intermezzo, I re-watched the “Normal People” series on Hulu, which is a beautifully shot and acted adaptation of her first novel. There is a part in it where Connell talks about the first time he and Marianne dated one another, how he knew even as he was in it that it was one of the best moments of his life; how he’d never been happier prior, or since. I thought what a gift to know when you are in the swell of something exceptional. To hold onto it, and not let it pass you by unremarked, unadored, unanointed.
On Saturday night, Landon made fresh egg pasta, which he rolled into a fun shaped called malloreddus and served with a sausage-saffron ragout. He continues to consider this pasta cookbook by Missy Robbins a kitchen essential. I bought him these beautiful handmade wooden pasta making implements (and these cutters) last Christmas, and it was fun to see them in use. Tilly, at home on Christmas afternoon while we were at my in-laws last year, got a hold of one of the tools from the kit and gnawed its wooden handle. We were so annoyed at the time, but now we look at it and see it as another impression of the lost.
A stream of holiday packages arrived this week — tree skirt and table linens from Julia Amory; melamine tray, ornaments, and tags from Rifle Paper (not pictured: a ton of their gift wrap — AND they just reached out to offer us 25% off sitewide with code SHOOP25), an Embers candle from Linnea (like Diptyque’s Feu de Bois but less). We aren’t far off…
Onward, friends.
*****
Sunday shopping poetry…
JULIA AMORY SILK DUPIONI TROUSERS (JEN-15 FOR 15% OFF) // MERIT CHEEK BALM TRIO // DORSEY EMERALD DROPS // DOEN DRESS // ROZ HAIR CARE MINI SET // TAPER CANDLE HOLDERS // VELVET BOWS
Contemplating buying a pair of these fabulous silk dupioni holiday pants from Julia Amory — should I go with silver or green? (Reminder that JEN-15 gets you 15% off.) // I love the idea of pairing the latter with a tuxedo style shirt (20% off with JEN20). // Perfect holiday drops. // A new holiday puzzle on its way to me. Will pull out on Thanksgiving. We are usually 1000-piecers but these 500-pieces options fit perfectly on the little table in our newly appointed living room, and are easier for our children to work on. // This velvet Doen dress is in my cart. // So many of my favorite beauty brands have launched the cleverest little gift sets for holiday — consider this Roz kit and these Merit beauties. Great for gifting, of course, but also for travel and on-the-go! // These taper candle holders would look so chic with these velvet bows tied around the base for Thanksgiving. // My new wicker trees.