"Please do not shoot the pianist. He is doing his best."
I do miss Strasbourg & all Alsace, especially this time of year. Powerfully.
Carol's Paris Hair post made me think of all the haircuts I've had. I usually don't go on about what I look like, my clothes, my apartment, etc. (really, who cares?) But I felt compelled to construct & send this quickie collage to Carol in reply to an email from her, in a reply to a comment. (Got that?) Carol cut her hair before she left for Paris; now she's espying long hair everywhere. *
..you better bring your own sun...
The Nobel Peace Prize 2009. Oh my. Random cuteness photograph of Uncle Barack with darling niece Sarita who is making her wiggly-waggly way over to Reggie Love. (She knows who's the keeper of the candy!)
Irving Penn's death in Manhattan was announced a few hours ago; he was 92. It is difficult to think of who--or what-- he did not photograph in his long illustrious career. To say he was just a fashion & celebrity photographer is not enough. (But, of course, that is the headline.)
Update on Wednesday. 7 October afternoon: High scary winds felling trees & wreaking havoc with our power supply. More later but please, if so inclined, go to Made4Aid & do a little early (do-gooder) holiday shopping. Pretty please? 
If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you. --
...to my mother. I sent her this bouquet for her birthday (this Friday). While I was spending an inordinate amount of time, money, & shattering my last nerve* having the new laptop fluffed & folded, she called to say it's beautiful. At the hairdresser's last week, I flipped through Martha Stewart Living to see how inadequate I am (lately). There was an advert (& a 15% discount code through December 31) for the collection. The code is LIVING15. Cheers.
People in town for the National Book Festival. People calling. People soliciting advice. People seeking the counsel of someone afraid of her new laptop? Think about it. Here's good advice for writers (& in general) at any level. The photograph synchronizes with Giulia Geranium today because, frankly, the bewildering assortment of photographs & images on hand is, well, a jumble. My tiny kingdom for a camera. Yesterday's foray to the new farmer's market near the White House (& assorted wanderings) called out for one. On the desk sit about-to-bloom pink lilies & stripey grasses from a cut-flower farm, Wollam Gardens, featured in yesterday's Washington Post. 
It's no wonder that this is from Cute Overload via We Heart It. It's from a GG post last holiday time but I wanted to see it over here now. Maybe it will balance out my sarcasm. The great kitten hunt is on after the weekend. A gift for Julie/Giulia (& me).
"They were careless people, Tom and Daisy--they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made..."
First, obtain some composure. It's on the to-do list. This photograph of Suzy Parker is by Nina Leen via myvintagevogue. Here's a link to Nina Leen photography. Where I learned that I have misspelled her first name. For over a year. The shame will eat at me while I am out today... no time to correct the attributions. This is seriously compromising any composure that I have had for a few hours. (I am not kidding. It is a sickness.)
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?/ Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,
We will have real health care reform in this country or I'll eat my huge, polka-dotted umbrella. 
Returning is decidedly difficult. Too many to-do lists. So off to make phone calls to remedy the situation, to swim, to ease la rentrée. It's usually one of my favorite times of year. (Except for natal day dread; more about which, perhaps, later.) Jumping into the autumn city swirl would be more graceful, I'm sure, if wearing a blue coat like this 1962 Yves Saint Laurent. One could glide in anywhere & no one would dare yell "You lie!" Yes, I'm still annoyed about the incivility towards our President. I keep referring to Professor Forni's Choosing Civility to keep myself under control. Yesterday I had it with me at a table wherein I had to hear all about why we [the organization] were wrong, misinformed, the usual. I kept glancing at my open tote, the book's title visible. It helped.
