Dreaming of candy pink earrings

It is evening. I am five or six years old. I am in the bathroom with my mother, she at the sink, me sitting cross-legged on top of the carpeted toilet seat cover. Our bathroom has the most fabulous '70s wallpaper: giant purple poppies (or anemones?), white daisies and bright green ferns.

I am watching her "put her face on". She is getting ready to go to a party with my dad, wearing a pink satin tunic that she sewed herself, two rows of silver sequins adorning the keyhole neck and the cuff of each 3/4 sleeve. Her frosted hair is pulled back from her forehead with a tortoise barrette, the ends are straight with a flip. She looks so glamorous and pretty, even without the makeup, and I am in awe as I watch her apply powder, blush, eyeshadow. Her eyeliner is in a red plastic pencil that requires a twist, and it doubles as an eyebrow pencil. Mascara, lipstick for her, less lipstick for me. A spritz of Joy perfume for her, much less for me, on my wrist.

I am holding her earrings, candy pink squares that dangle from long silver sticks. They almost touch my shoulders when I try them on and they have always fascinated me. They are one of the items I covet most in her jewelry box, even more than the iridescent green crystal earrings, which are like shiny fairy moss, or the chunky smoky quartz ring, which barely fits my thumb and I'm always tempted to lick, certain it would taste like the root beer barrel candies that I don't really like anyway.

The babysitter is here. She is very pretty and she gets me into my pajamas soon after they leave for the party. She lets me brush her hair, which is dark brown and really, really long. It's time for bed, and I fall asleep smelling the perfume on my wrist, dreaming of candy pink earrings that dust my shoulders like magic.

{all photos from Etsy, click on the earrings to get to their respective shop}

Good morning sunshine

{red gerbera, originally uploaded by robinsegg0523}

While my "Charlie Brown Christmas Tree" tomato plant puts forth one lonely little fruit, my gerberas are doing nicely thank you. They smile at me every morning when I water everything in my little balcony garden.

A diva's work is never done

Sorry for the long absence folks, I've been busy with the installation of my self-portait series...

Opening my boutique...

and getting my photo taken for Russian Vogue.

Actually my life is nowhere near this glamorous and I've just been busy with work stuff and haven't had time to post anything interesting.

Addictive photo fun by PhotoFunia.

Shall we dance?

{RFC_5025, originally uploaded by robcuni.com.}

When I first saw this picture on the Flickr homepage (under "Everyone's Uploads") I thought it was a dance studio or a very fancy karate or exercise studio. Then I realized that the contraptions in front of the "paneled" wall were not pilates torture devices but garage door tracks. It's a garage. With chandeliers. And a tin ceiling. And checkered floor that would make Fifi Flowers swoon.

Don't you just love Flickr?

Ah, Summer...

{shelter, originally uploaded by littlelakey}

Summer is dining at an outdoor cafe... the smell of wet dirt from last night's rain as the morning sun heats up... nasturtiums on salad... waiting in line for a coke float at the burger stand... cold white wine and sweet citronella candles on a blanket at a nighttime concert in the park.

Summer is fresh herbs growing in pots on the porch... tomatoes from the garden seasoned only with the warmth of the sun... homemade ice cream... swimming lessons... iced coffee... the squish of bare feet on wet sand at low tide.

Summer is the refreshing cool of air conditioning on a hot humid day... kids running through sprinklers... admiring your new sandals and a fresh pedicure... the sound of the crowd at a little league game... eating popsicles before they melt... playing hooky from work to enjoy a less-crowded beach on a weekday.

Summer is reading "chick lit" in the shade... getting out of the car to watch sailboats pass while the drawbridge is raised... fresh peaches... children's tiny bathing suits drying on the clothesline... driving with the sunroof open, the AC on and the radio loud.

Summer is here, finally.


Julia at Red Otter Shop inspired this post with her query for what defines summer (illustrated with pies not made by human hands). Thanks Julia!

And, as this is my 50th post, I would like to thank you for being here: those who comment, those who link to me, and those who just stop by to read. I'm so glad you all enjoy my random musings enough to keep coming back. When I started this little experiment to see if there was an audience for my ramblings, I never guessed that I would have made so many new friends and been so inspired.

A big thanks to Patricia at PVE Design, who was the first person to ever comment (on my third post). I have no idea how she ever found me but I am grateful for her early encouragement. A special thanks to those bloggers whose own posts are so interesting to others that their readers click through their blogroll and show up here. I get TONS of traffic from Julia at Hooked on Houses, A-M from The House that A-M Built, Rebekah at Little ByRD, Robin at A Little Bird Told Me, Laura at Fifi Flowers and Diana at Please Sir.

Wow, it's like an Oscar speech. Cue the music and cut to commercial.