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i've tried and tried to take good pictures of my gardens as a whole. they just never look nearly as good as they do in person. most of the time, in fact, they look like ratty beds of scrubby weeds. in person, i swear they are gorgeous.
to give you some idea, i've taken pictures of some plants up close. please enjoy a delphinium, a peony, and a limited glimpse of
the back shade bed.
And you didn't have to be a kid to enjoy that sort of treatment. Serving in the Screen Actors Guild with his great friend William Holden, the actor, best man at his wedding, Bill got used to it. They would be there at the meetings, and Dad would have hold of his earlobe. There they'd be, some tense labor negotiation, two big Hollywood movie stars, hand in earlobe.
— Ron Reagan, Jr. on his late father
hey, this is cool.
make your own! click on "part selection" to choose each part of your portrait, then click "create" to...create it. if you'd like to keep it, save it to your computer. if you send them to me, i'll post them here and we can have our own little portrait gallery.
i love the internet.
update: hey! look at...
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| betty | sarah | Betsy |
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| paul | cori | Mom |
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| terry |
this morning it stopped raining for about five minutes — just long enough for me to go out into the yard and take a few pictures of what's in bloom. (it is worth pointing out that it's rained maybe 11 days out of the last 15; we were lucky that sunday, the day we went on a picnic and ventured out to the nursery was not one of them. today, alas, is. as was yesterday. as will be tomorrow. as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, rain without end, amen. at least the slugs like it.)
the garden overall won't hit its prime until late june/early july. for now i'm happy to see the few early bloomers* that dare to show their faces between rain showers. and zealously prosecuting every slug i see, to the fullest extent of the law.
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* "early bloomers, julie? it's june." i know. i have a calendar, but apparently no one told vermont it's supposed to be summer now.
dear ann taylor,
why do you hate women?
why do you ignore the laws of nature?
see, ann, it's like this: women above size 6 have curves. some of us even have bulges, sad to say, bulges that we would prefer to de-emphasize.
you're not doing us any favors, you know.
why do you insist on foisting bias-cut skirts and dresses — flattering only on a sentient popsicle stick — on your lumpier, less willowy customers?
and why, why must you tailor the bustline of your dresses so that anyone with, you know, an actual rack looks like an eastern european wet nurse, and not in a good way?
oh, and why do you think it's a good idea for the world to see my (rather meaty, alas) upper arms? were you abused by a sleeve in your tender youth? it's the only explanation that makes sense — because in your stores, there is nary a true sleeve to be found. there are only those wispy caps, those fluttery gestures that hang limply and ineffectually at the top of the shoulder, offering no coverage at all, none at all.
it is because of your patent misogyny that i must regretfully tell you we're breaking up. it's time for me to see other people. i need my space. and i need my sleeves.
signed,
julie