Love Notes

The hurrah of Labor Day festivities is always seasoned - for me at least - with a dollop of melancholia, a sense of an ending.  A touch of grey drifts across my last lobster roll of the season, just one of a string of bittersweet "lasts".  Goodbye to Sunday night sunset cocktails on this beach above, so long to riding my 20 year old bike along the golf course to our small summer church, farewell to late afternoons needlepointing with friends on the beach, adieu  to the leisurely la la land that is August in New England.    For me most of all, Labor Day oozes with goodbyes to dear friends and the warm embrace of this small community. 

Yet I know how lucky I am, this melancholia is only the shadow cast by gratitude.  READ MORE HERE

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The seas in Maine have been wild and woolly from Erin this week - spray flying, waves hammering the rocks - all played against the sapphire brilliance of an August New England sky.

Do you sense a good metaphor coming on?

I've been using some of my time away on this rugged Maine coast to ponder the creative process (yes, we've talked about that here), and to contemplate life's changes.   I found this line of imagery with which I'm rather smitten:  You'll never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.  READ MORE

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This Thursday and Friday, I drove from Virginia to Maine.  It was about the worst traffic I have ever encountered on this annual pilgrimage (which I've been making for 35 years).  Luckily I had made the decision to stop for a night with a friend in Watch Hill (it was divine - thank you Sissy!).  Watch Hill is always a smart decision.   For those who have not been, allow me to introduce you to The Ocean House - a wondrous Relais and Chateux resort set atop one of New England's most fabulous beaches.  And you just might mark your glorious getaway by picking up my custom bangle in their charming boutique.  That was a fun project.

I downloaded an audiobook for the long drive, and I wish I could claim credit for another great decision - but I somehow managed to download the wrong book.  In a stroke of divine providence - I loved my mistake.

It was Miracle and Wonder by Malcolm Gladwell.  READ MORE HERE

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Or more specifically, birds, bees, butterflies & Bunny - with a dash of Oscar.  

Lucky me spent this past Saturday at Bunny Mellon's Oak Spring Garden in Upperville, Virginia.     I was there for an embroidery class, but also to drink in all the loveliness that exudes from every nook and cranny of this aesthete's oasis nestled in Virginia's Hunt Country.  Mrs. Mellon was an accomplished and avid collector, and we were treated to a tour of her library, with a special focus on needlework-related books and objects.  In all things Mrs. Mellon touched, she left beauty.  And that's before we even begin to talk about her garden.  READ MORE

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I am rather irked by the parade of brown prints and suede boots high-stepping their way into my Instagram feed this week.  And so begins my annual lament:  let the sultry magic of summer linger a bit longer.   

Hellooooo.  It's still July, people.   

After all, the days are still long and the evenings still warm ... why break the enchantment? 
  
Lounge in the sun with a good book.  
Bite into a peach and let the juice drip down your chin.  
Be still.  Be here.  In this one precious moment.  READ MORE

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