unbroken circle

Bags packed, car arrives at 18:30, so cold I don't even feel like swimming, just hanging out with my mom, sewing my beloved old white Brooks Brothers shirt that my husband discarded before he was my husband.

A little soundtrack to play along with this post:




Top shot is my cousin Adam and his wife Ann's daughter, Aili, who is five. I met her for the first time this summer - the last time we saw them, in London, Aili and Oliver weren't yet born - and now that they're back home on the West Coast, I miss them so much.






Family: it really matters. Meeting these charming, well behaved children - our cousins, our family - seeing myself, my mom, my uncle, (who died suddenly and tragically, years ago, shown above with my mom) in their eyes.. they make me wish we had children.



There was a moment, during my mom's birthday weekend, when she was telling the children - cousins who had met and bonded within minutes - about their great grandmother, her mom, who died two weeks after I was born. Then she told them about my Grandpa - their great grandfather. They were SPELLBOUND. (These are my parents, above, shortly after they were married. It is the only time I saw photos of my dad with a roll on his waist: he was always so fit, swam and played tennis and ran, but he said when they first got married, he was so blissed out he got 'fat').



A few days later, I was walking back from the pool on a glorious sunshiney day - you know the kind, when it feels like summer will last forever - and I had this sudden thought: one day, I won't be here. I wonder if one of them will tell some as yet unborn child about me. I hope so. I hope they will remember me, as I remember my family in my heart. I wish my father, and my grandparents, were there to celebrate with us, but they were. They so were.

I really hate to leave - one of my homes away from home - and as I do, I make my wish that I will come back. This was the most perfect holiday, ever. And oh, by the way, this is me.

too much style

Every once in a while all the planets seem to converge and I find myself surrounded by too much style. It's a bit like sampling chocolate: you just get dizzy & can't think straight. That's what was happening to me on Sunday when, jet lagged, Mr. Dot & I stopped into the V&A to relax & see some Renaissance sculpture, stop by the tea room & eat cakes. That's when we met Renaissance Man, Erina with her Bob, and several others I haven't even shown you yet.

As a result, I didn't bother to stop this girl, just took a quick shot. It's only now, on closer inspection, I'm noticing she's got this suede helmet with primary coloured insets, a matching quilted bag, a fur gilet which she might have customized herself with that belt (if so: brilliant! That's the thing I tend to hate about gilets: how they can make one so boxy in the mid section). And THEN, she put it over a matching taupe chunky jumper, then added a black pencil skirt, tights, boots.. this girl is interesting. If anyone knows who she is, please ask her if it's okay to post this. Frankly, I'd just like to see what else she's got up her sleeve, style wise.



Just having myself a little fun here.. I liked this girl's simple style and her sleep pony tail. Shot @ the same place, the entrance hall to the V&A: but embellished with photography from my night fishing with my man series (from my other blog, eternal summer). Okay, night night, chickadees!