Record players

Recently we stayed in a hotel in Palm Springs that came complete with records and a record player in the room. I highly recommend both the hotel and playing records. You forget about the pops and noise that goes on with the record player but it's soothing. It is also soothing to watch the record go around, to see how the machine works. You forget how short one side of a record is, but it's still a pleasure.

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Summertime...and the livin' is easy

May I suggest:

1. Swimming.
2. Sunsets.
3. Sunrises.
4. White eyelet.
5. Picnics on blankets.
6. Lemonade.
7. Flowers.
8. Cooking outside.
9. Straw bags.
10. And a good book.

Hopeless romantic

I am a hopeless romantic,

I guess

and hardly claim

to be that at all.

In this “cynical age”

we all want to be transported

for love.

Code of Conduct

Everyone has a code of conduct that he or she lives by. This is mine:

1. When in doubt, always buy the red shoes.
2. Give it forward. Always give baby gifts and wedding presents.
3. Always support Legal aid.
4. Wear matching bras and underwear.
5. It's okay to cry at the movies.
6. Eat what you like as long as you are hungry.
7. If you are scared of something that is not really dangerous, it's a good sign that you should do it.
8. Dress up, have manners, and be civil.
9. Please yourself.
10. Laugh more.
11. Dress your children exactly how you wish for as long as they let you. Don't save the "special" clothes.
12. Dance at weddings.
13. Have more picnics.
14. Sing in the car.
15. Promptly send thank you notes.
16. Use good skin care.

And lots of love, always.

Go to Paris.

Paris is so often described, it’s hard to write about it freshly. Perhaps that’s the point. Perhaps the history and literature have soaked into the building facades and the air and the light such that it is an integral part of it. Paris tugs at you and makes you want to go back, and be a part of it again and again.

In Paris, you feel that life is more graceful and that you, as part of this life, are more graceful, too. You build it up in your head before you go and after you come home for ever more (or at least for the rest of your life), you can recall graceful instances. A kind, dapper old man who helped you find your way, delighted that you were looking for the Place St-Sulpice! So easy to find! The Asian waiter—slim, young, elegant, efficient, perfect. The little girl, late at night, playing the piano—a magical young maestro. Was it all a dream? No, it’s Paris and you don’t want to leave and you seriously consider ex-patriotism.

Paris has a lovely effect on people. People in Paris value their dogs and flowers and bread and café crème and shoes and cellulite lotions. Everything becomes more romantic. The light on the water. The misty rain. Bridges. Iron work. Street lamps. Cats and dogs. Jackie Kennedy had a time in Paris. Anyone can take a picture of a street lamp or sculpture, with the Eiffel Tower in the background and you want it up on your walls.

The perfect ____. That was what was so nice about Paris. You could easily fill in the blank. The perfect breakfast: Steaming hot and rich café au lait and crispy warm croissants.

The perfect flowers; roses to carry around—a bunch of small yellow ones with pink tips.

The perfect view.

The perfect river, sunset, painting, shoes, dogs, bicycle, trash can.

Paris is elegant, my friends.

Birthdays

I believe that on your birthday, you should allow a few indulgences that you don't usually allow throughout the year. These were mine:

Sleeping in.
Taking my son to preschool.
Picking my son up from preschool.
A pedicure.
Ice cream.
A wonderful home-cooked dinner.
Shopping.
A favorite movie.
And not working.

May you have a personal wonderful day on your birthday.

Enough time in the day

In old movies, things seem less frantic. Sure, people go about their business, but it seems like there is enough time for business. There is time for a break. Meals are enjoyed, people go to the theater or meet with others. No one is on a Blackberry.

I feel the press of modern life, which is a vintage sentiment. That is, 50 years ago they reminisced longingly about Victorian times. The Victorians thought life was too hectic for them. But with the time change and the sun setting later, it does seem like there may be enough time in the day to play with the kids, eat a nice dinner, and pet the dog. It's ever so less frantic.

Orange Blossoms

In the orange groves around our farm, this time of year is scented with orange blossoms. If you haven't ever experienced that, I feel sorry for you. I open up the windows and inhale the sweet, heady scent.

Oranges are a rare plant because they can both flower and bear fruit at the same time. Their scent, on a warm day, is intoxicating. How lovely. Roll down the windows of your car and breathe.

Spring Cleaning

Since I don't have staff (*sigh*) I clean my house myself. And I've figured out the way to do it: Buy cleaners that smell nice. I have been buying the new "eco-friendly" cleaners, in trendy packaging. I resisted for a long time because, after all, I can just use vinegar or whatever to clean the house. But the new cleaners are worth it for the smell alone.

Almond, lemon verbena, lavender, grapefruit. Although I won't go so far as to say that the house cleans itself or that it is fun to clean or that cleaning is akin to a spa, I will say that nice products make a difference.

Here's to dusting, cleaning and opening the windows for spring!

Roses are red...

Declaring that we are no longer starving college students, my husband surprised me with three dozen red roses Fedexed to my office from Colombia.

They are elegant.

Exuberant, showy, graceful and classic. How fun! (And who cares if they are from Costco...if only I could get him to check out the rare diamonds page on Costco...or wait, while we're at it Tiffany's...)

I'm not one for Valentine's Day, really. I prefer homemade Valentine's with Elmer's glue. But there is something to be said for a grand gesture.

Thanks.

Trying something new.

The other day I decided to try and make a leg of lamb. I have never eaten leg of lamb, much less made it, but I thought I'd give it a shot. A bit of an expensive folly, perhaps, but what is life if not an adventure. I also decided to have roasted fennel (from the farmer's market), even though I've never eaten that before. And I made carrottes vichy (spelled something like that--cooked carrots) and good bread and good wine. I bought a lemon bar for dessert. (My husband said, who are you and what have you done with my wife--I don't go much for lemon.)

At any rate, I'm so glad I tried something new. I'm not sure that any of the above will be my new favorite thing (or trump good bread and good wine) but a small victory was the look on the baby's face when she tried fennel and the 3 year old asking for more meat so he could be like T-Rex. The elegant part was eating it in our formal dining room with my great aunt's china and candlelight. To new adventures!

Resolutions

I have given up on resolutions that I can't keep. Instead, the past few years I've made resolutions that I know I can keep and that are fun to keep, but that also, perhaps, serve ulterior motives. Two years ago, my resolution was to not buy any more boring shoes. Quite honestly, that's the best resolution I've ever had and I've kept that one well. It does snowball, though, because if you aren't buying boring shoes, then you aren't buying boring clothes or jewelry or other things in life. Hence, the ulterior motive of improving the style of my life.

This year, my resolution is a bit more decadent: good skin care. Good skin care translates to taking better care of myself, which as a mom and a busy lawyer can get hard to do. So far so good. I think this is a resolution I can keep.

I believe...

...in Santa, singing carols, candlelight, warm fires, going out to look at Christmas lights, crying at least 3 times during "It's a Wonderful Life," champagne, baking smells, the cat curled up by the fire, twinkle lights, scarves and sweaters, bundling up and going for a walk, being nice while Christmas shopping, and getting people what they want. I believe in giving of yourself, your time, your money, your stuff, and your love. I believe in dreams, good books, Rudolph, Charlie Brown Christmas, and Bing. I believe in undivided attention, peace, love, and peppermint bark. I believe in ringing bells, wreaths and greenery, and funny socks. I believe in wishing Joy to you!

Nat, Bing, Frank, and Dean

For me, it's the sound of Christmas, that really gets it started. Bing Crosby's "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas" usually does the trick. Frank Sinatra's "Hark the Herald Angels" works as well. The Christmas season starts to descend.

The next step, is, of course, to get the Christmas tree so the house smells like Monterey pine. And little twinkle lights. And cocoa or champagne. And a fire.

When I get out the Christmas decorations I feel like I am greeting old friends. There you are, dear snowmen, dear angels, dear Santa.

But for me, slowing down and almost imperceptibly loosening the tight knots of the year are also as crucial. Thank you boys, you help a lot.

Cashmere socks...

...and Chai. So the Chai is very 2000s (whatever this decade is called). But I bet Cary Grant wore cashmere socks although I have no evidence to prove it. Regardless, it makes for a cozier evening.

Loungewear

Lately I've been wanting to upgrade my around-the-house wear. It usually consists of an unfortunate mix of sweatpants and socks because I live in a drafty old farmhouse and it can get cold even in this temperate climate. If I were Audrey Hepburn, I could wear a blue robe a la Charade. If I were Ingrid Bergman, perhaps Cary Grant would walk in on my using cold cream while in a dark robe. In the 50s, it appeared like there were nice matching sets of robes, slippers, and pyjamas to wear while being cozy in front of the fire. So much more elegant.

Last of the summer roses

I pruned our roses yesterday--well, at least about a dozen of them. In our mild climate, I have no idea if I am early or late. It just seemed the right time. We added some mulch and now they seem like they each have little blankets to shelter them until next year.

Amidst the prunings were some perfectly good roses, which I gathered and brought inside and put them in containers. They smell heavenly and old-fashioned. Near my kitchen sink they are homey and comfortable. As it should be.

Dapper little man

Never mind that he is currently wearing bright orange fake safety goggles from the toy store (he's helping dad around the house), my son is dapper. He got his hair cut the other day, which aged him at least two years (so he looks like he is five). But it's cropped short and it's shiny and he looks like he could be a little boy from 50 years ago.

Although his sartorial preferences usually lean towards flashing sneakers and Thomas the Tank Engine shirts, I do note that he has a thing for red and for good pajamas. Atta boy. Oh to be three...

Burnt orange and robin's egg blue

It's Fall, which makes me think that it's time to re-watch Breakfast at Tiffany's: burnt orange coats, boxes of Cracker Jack, Halloween masks from the five and dime, perfume in the mailbox, and leaves falling.

I went to Tiffany's recently (in Beverly Hills, not Manhattan), and I can assuredly report that they did not have a sterling silver telephone dialer for the man who has everything. They have lots of sterling silver, but as this is the age of smartphones (not that I have one), you don't really need a dialer to deal with a touch screen. Not that you ever needed a sterling silver telephone dialer.

Tiffany's did, however, help me give the mean reds the heave-ho. They polished my ring so that it sparkles in the sunshine, distracting me while I drive. Now if only I could get it engraved...

Being a kid

My one year old daughter has been given lots of frilly dresses. If she doesn't wear them on a regular basis, she never will wear them (much like using the "good" china). Thus, I try and put her in them occasionally.

Today she was wearing a white frilly short dress with bloomers. We ended up at the beach after lunch. Although totally impractical, she looked like a Kennedy, wearing white at the seashore, her blond curls shiny in the son.

I guess kids can be elegant too.