Now open your eyes. I know we’re reading about the federal attempt to prevent us from voting in the midterms, to discard our votes once cast, to refuse to acknowledge the outcome when counted. But all is not lost. Organizations across America are deeply involved in plans and programs to protect our rights. Here are four things you can do in the next month to increase our chance of success, from exceedingly simple to more difficult.

1. 1. Check to make sure you are registered to vote. As we’ve all read, people are being taken off voter rolls in various places. This takes, as the site says, 30 seconds. Go here, to Vote.org.
   2. Donate to the campaigns of several Senators. I did this only last week, because before now I thought the Senate was out of reach. Turns out, still a reach, but worth a try. As usual, I am sending you to Charles Gaba’s ActBlue site, as I find selecting candidates myself highly anxiety-producing and I prefer to outsource to someone I trust and respect. This takes a minute, maybe two.
   3. Sign up to be a poll worker, or poll observer, in your state. Poll workers are the people who check you in and actually work at polling sites. They are paid. This non-partisan site, National Association Secretaries of State, has a dropdown menu to find the requirements and process for your state. Poll observers (watches) are unpaid, and often organized by political parties. Here is a list of the requirements for poll observers in each state. They vary pretty widely. In California, I signed up via California Democrats. The ACLU and Indivisible are also running programs for election support, so in your state you might try reaching out to either of them if the party process is obscure.
   4. Finally, when talking, or texting, or Facebooking for that matter with your friends and family, turn up the encouragement and persuasion a notch. From 4 to 5, or 7 to 8, maybe. I find this hard. As I don’t have anyone in my orbit who is a Trump supporter, this has meant exhorting my younger extended family members to be sure to get to the polls. Suggesting they might also bring their friends along. I’m embarrassed to be so “cringe” in front of cool youth, and I did ask their parents if it was OK so as not to step on toes, but right now it’s all about personal contact. As TV ads flood the airways (I cannot imagine living in a swing state right now) people tune media out. They just might listen to you.

Thank you in advance for any strength you can muster. I hate losing, but I hate losing most of all if I haven’t tried my best. If you’d told me, “Lisa, your post today can be only one sentence,” it would be this. Don’t lose hope; your effort matters.

Note I used the semi-colon to string two sentences together. We all have life hacks. I hope you have a wonderful and productive weekend.

The post This Can Get Better, Or, Saturday Morning at 9:25am appeared first on Privilege.

First, a day at the Rosewood Sand Hill pool, via ResortPass. The walk down from the lobby is already beautiful.

Olive trees, sigh.

A set up for someone’s wedding, I think. I am not prone to find things cute but that is cute.

And the pool itself. The California sky doing a lot of heavy lifting here.

I am a sucker for the fruit bowl and pool combo.

Am also a sucker for my daughter, my son and his boyfriend.

Later, cocktails, canapés, crudités and canapés on a private patio at the Rosewood’s restaurant, Madera. A view out over the hills.

Birthday girl,

with hair and dress courtesy of “guerrilla birthday” strategy, meaning we went straight from the pool to the outdoor shower, pulled on our clothes, and let the strands and folds fall as they would.

Followed by dinner in a private dining room.

With flowers,

my children,

and cake. That thing must have weighed six pounds.

What I do not show you is my niece and son vamping it up for selfies, my daughter lying with me on a lounge chair, my sister swimming laps, my brother-in-law joking, my son-in-law talking with a Brasilian staff member in Portuguese, my son, his boyfriend and my sister in deep conversation, my nephew chatting away at dinner as though it were no big thing, my brother and his girlfriend arriving with the beautiful flowers, my stepmother taking time with each grandchild, and my beloved husband, working in the shade of a cabaña, and then by my side at dinner.

Wildly extravagant. But to bring family together, remembering other afternoons at a pool and all the other dinners with laughter and candles, I couldn’t have asked for more. I did not need a new dress.

Have a good weekend all. How did October arrive so quickly?

(Images courtesy of my stepmother, my son-in-law and my niece who’s got quite the eye. You can find her on Instagram.)

The post And October It Is, Or, Saturday Morning at 10:58am appeared first on Privilege.

First, as we stand steadfast in 2026’s video torrent, reading words, I need to let you know I finally surrendered to Daniel Mason’s “North Woods.” It’s one of those books I’ve seen recommended dozens of times. Read the blurb tens of times, decided for some vibe or another not to buy, over and over, but finally, late one night in the throes of despair brought on by one too many pieces of commercial fiction that I just don’t get (Remarkably Bright Creatures, anyone?), embraced. Oh my goodness! I’m not finished but it’s keeping me up at night in the best of ways. I love stories in which much of the meaning happens in a non-verbal space of our consciousness, even as we marvel at the beautiful words in and of themselves. No spoilers, but those who’ve read it, I die for the ghosts.

Second and third, let me send you to Reddit. Do not be afraid of the perhaps alien space. You don’t have to log in to read, and if you do, you can remain anonymous. Consider weddings. Way back in the early days I used to write, in the voice of my semi-imagined ancestors, about High WASP nuptial types. Then when planning my daughter’s day, having found myself on Reddit, I discovered these two subreddits (as the separate forums dedicated to one topic or another are called). We learn, thusly, perspectives can broaden.

• r/Big Budget Brides. Of this I will say only, there are many ways to spend a lot of money. I watch myself, as I read, and I can hear the voices of my culture having opinions about draping (must we?), gold chargers (in the right place, I suppose), and a mix of high-low style (always and forever). Writing this blog has shown me how much of what I thought was “taste,” universal and Platonic, is in fact a signifier for Culture and its evil cousin Class. Doesn’t mean I now like “full glam” makeup; does mean the chatter of judgment bows to an understanding of differences. Extra benefit: many photos of beautiful celebrations.
• r/Weddingattireapproval. If we wondered who had taken up the “Is this appropriate, dear?” mantle, I can tell you. Reddit. Absent the “dear.” Did you know that if you ask people to arrive in black tie you absolutely cannot serve them family style? You must force Table 2 to watch their chicken congeal until Table 14 have their plates. Did you know that with a formal dress code it’s better to wear a long tube of stretch satin slit to your mid-thigh than a calf length dupioni silk number with a twirly skirt? Here I allow my ancestral voices freer rein, since I sense brigades of Mean Girls seatings themselves with “Harrumphs!” in the chairs of departed Grandes Dames and I don’t think we need that today. Extra benefit: some people have style I deeply enjoy.

There you go. Entertainment, of the sort that inspires thought – of one kind or another. Have a brilliant September. See you in a bit.

The post Off For September Leaving Recommendations In My Wake, Or, Saturday Morning at 9:13am appeared first on Privilege.

Blame it on the Tilley. (Yes I am letting her pretend to be in a tropical jungle, she’s earned the daydream.)

A longer exegesis. I wear that hat when I walk. I try to walk as often as I can, even to do errands, briskly. It’s very sunny in California, much of the time. I live at least a mile from any shopping. I don’t like sunscreen and in any case I can’t put it on my scalp. So, walking.

My father died of congestive heart failure, my mother of Alzheimer’s, both conditions suggest that walking is good. I am not trying not to die, because I am reasonably sensible, but I would like to feel when the time comes I have done the best job possible to support my wild gift of consciousness. How did this particular windowpane of awareness come to inhabit these eyes, this bone structure, this flesh? A miracle. I walk.

Now, here’s the thing. I dare anyone to look even remotely stylish under that hat, unless you’re making a movie about African safaris. Impossible, at least for my type of slightly subversive but WASPy preferences. Could I wear a different topper? It wouldn’t help. Because these are my walking shoes. For weight training, walking to dinner, and “barefoot shoes” for walking everywhere else. You already know why.

Add a jaunty straw fedora, glamorous broad-brimmed number, or even a cute bucket, ridiculous.

Therefore, if you happen to see an older person pitter-patting down a suburban street, looking like a total dork, feel no sorrow. Feel no compassion, do not say “Aw.” They quite likely know they look absurd. It’s not because they can’t tell Dries from Dior or can’t pull a Liberty shirt from their close; they are seizing life like a velociraptor.

And do not worry. When we drive somewhere, especially at night when the sun is down, out come mules and organza dresses, lug-soled loafers with floral scarves. Dressing like a dork isn’t surrender, it’s a savage love of existence. We are so joyful about the sky.

Embrace your intentional dork, if that’s your inclination. Fiercely.

Finally, as part of the I Hate Sunscreen project, I recommend these as overshirts. I have one in muted mauve, one in muddy taupe, one in white. They run small, and I choose which to wear with which color pants or yoga tights. Mauve with ochre pants, particularly adventurous. No need to throw aesthetics out with the bathwater, altogether. In fact, I could persuaded to up level a tad with these or the like.

Have a wonderful weekend.

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The hotel sits right under the word, “Post,” to the left of this map; you can see today’s Timber Fire status on the right; we were due to drive down Tuesday. The fire started Saturday afternoon. By Sunday morning I was saying, “Hmm,” by Sunday night at 11pm the hotel had been evacuated, by Monday morning we had, needless to say, cancelled our reservation.

Clearly; my missed vacation is nothing compared to the burning of the world. Although I’m sad not to have spent that time 1200 feet above the Pacific, attempting to understand the horizon, we made good use of the week. As often happens in large chunks of unexpected free time, we accomplished a lot of tasks that had been lingering. And for at least one spot of ocean, we drove over the hill to the small town of Pescadero.

Duarte’s, the well-known haunt and its artichoke soup, was closed. We ate at a gas station taqueria and the food was fantastic.

We sat at outside tables, inside being devoted to gas station foodstuffs. Papel picado flapped overhead.

Then we scooted out to beautiful Bean Hollow Beach. I saw no beans, or hollows, the ocean was too big and the water just wouldn’t sit still.

I’ve had a nice week. I have to say that the midterms are coming. Unless you actually want the countryside of our American West – Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Utah, Montana, Wyoming, Nevada, Colorado, California, and New Mexico – to turn bit by bit to ash, it would be great if you found a way to help us flip the House and Senate. I hear we need poll watchers. But every little act helps.

Have a wonderful weekend.

The post Not What I Expected To Post, Or, Saturday Morning at 10:41am appeared first on Privilege.

You see that red Sarouk? Bought 1979,  from a Brooklyn rug dealer familiar to a colleague of mine who knew the trade. But when 21st century hot California summers felled our big backyard Chinese elm, and sunlight hit our windows full on, protection time. Put the rug somewhere else, safe. I also kind of wanted a green floor. Desire.

Did nothing for a long time. Then one day I came across this, online at Quince, on sale. I did something immediately, impulsively.

Not antique, not blindingly expensive, calm. I’m very pleased.

However, in the way of design, now I now need new pillows. I dug through my pillow closet, which of course shares space with wrapping paper, and found these.

Tolerable, but match my Lily Stockman painting too directly. I’m thinking maybe (these are all from Etsy) pick up the brick red you see on my throw blanket? Or a terracotta? Something like this?

Might be too orange, although I like the aqua trim.

Burgundy with pale blue, then. But maybe I want a pattern.

But maybe that’s too similar to the rug?

How about broken stripes, dark brick and slate blue. Rug the color of a garden with water, pillows the color of, um, hardscaping?

And on we go. Colors are my favorite thing these days.

Now, if you are so inclined. I would love to hear your thoughts. One caveat: please don’t say mine are bad. If you don’t like my vision, just pretend you didn’t hear it as per the special trick of Grande Dames and British society in period dramas. This way, I can benefit from your thinking without an iota of distress over criticism of mine. Conserving my capacity for societal distress, where it is with any luck more useful.

In older age, we understand our internal mechanisms better, despite the mystery of pillows. Have a highly-cushioned weekend everyone.

The post Doesn’t Everyone Have A Pillows-In-Waiting Closet, Or, Saturday Morning at 9:10am appeared first on Privilege.

Not to sound preposterous, but I find myself wanting a new conceptual model of self in addition to new shoes. Who am I really, now that my knuckles are wider than my fingers? Gray hair, wrinkles, jowls, various tendon issues, somehow all of that felt like it was happening to the self in the mirror, not the one here, on the sofa. I think now the little spark of consciousness behind my eyes is having to adjust. Feels a bit fidgety, TBH.

I don’t feel sad, at least not yet. Were I to give voice to my reaction, which, obviously, yes, it’s a great big, “Huh.” I’m reading Honest Aging, by Rosemary Leipzig, as Kristin recommended, and thinking. Thanks, Kristin.

So much thinking.

But before we launch into a full post, or several, I wanted to hear from you. As many have pointed out, readers’ thoughtful (funny, iconoclastic) comments are one of this old blog’s best features, and it would make no sense to write at any length without your input. So.

• Did/does 70 feel significant? Or just another decade passing by?
• Did/will you take stock? If so, of what?
• Have you made any proactive changes as a result of thinking about it all? Or only in response to events and changes as they occurred – health, life, and so on?

I imagine you can think of questions of your own. Feel free to ask them. Or answer those unasked, for that matter.

Have an excellent weekend. Happy birthday to anyone who needs it.

The post Is Turning 70 A Big Deal, Or, Saturday Morning at 8:44am appeared first on Privilege.

One thing I did suspect, women in the professions need professional wardrobes. When my daughter told me she was ready for a new one, I thought, “Hooray!” immediately followed by, “What to wear, these days?” As a surgeon, in the OR, scrubs and clogs clearly. At other times, dresses and suits, dresses and suits. Same as it ever was, but the 2026 version, and not corporate. There’s more room for personal style, to a point.

What about this,

with Repettos? She was a dancer through school and college, after all.

Add simple – but not tiny – gold earrings and not a speck of other ornamentation except wedding and engagement rings.

I do love navy pointelle. I’m not sure about the Tory Burch T everywhere, though. As we know, controversially, I’m good with logos generally but at work not so much. Unless your work is fashion or design, where you want your clothing to say something about where you stand in that universe.

The only heels I wear comfortably enough these days are my Jimmy Choo wedding shoes and a pair of Paul Green pumps. So maybe these from PG? I like the way the nubbly bit would relate to TB’s pointelle. Surely, surely we all know navy and black are just fine?

For a conference, perhaps. So helpful of Me + Em to style this with a white coat. More pointelle. Am liking this trend.

That dress insists on pointy toes, I don’t know why, so with legendary Choos.

Now, suits, can we go lady? This color would be gorgeous if one happened to be a fair-skinned, pink-cheeked, blue-eyed redhead. Might want dark navy pumps or the afore-mentioned brown Repettos, black here being too high contrast for our doctor.

And if not lady, who makes our suits these days? Maybe Paul Smith, sized for a grownup and not a girl in her big brother’s clothes?

With a pair of suede loafers? Or Darbys, as the British call oxfords?

With that, I turn it over to you eminent knowers of the world. Any and all resources welcome. I have been retired for going on 15 years, and can no longer provide answers. I may not even have guidance, ideas will have to do. Have a wonderful weekend.

The post A New Work Wardrobe For A Newly-Minted Attending Physician, Or, Saturday Morning at 10:40am appeared first on Privilege.

I just returned from camping, with my sister, for three nights in the High Sierra. We are both in our later 60s.

It was just car camping, tents, cooking over a fire, a little propane stove, and so on. No real backpacking. But the High Sierra is high; at 7500 feet oxygen is a tiniest bit harder to come by, the sun, intense. Never mind the possibility of bears. Gotta put all the food and any scented toiletries in the special bear locker any time you leave the campsite or go to sleep. That’s a lot of carrying bins from here to there.

The High Sierra is also extraordinarily, or maybe ordinarily if we weren’t so civilized, beautiful. And thus, inspiring? Is that the right word?

Specifics include silver tip firs, fallen and standing, wildflowers, granite, and clear, clear water.

There are teeny white and pink flowers hidden in this greenery, and often small orange butterflies flit about. I think Western Meadow Fritillaries but they rarely stayed still enough to identify.

We thought better of hiking to the very top of Inspiration Point. I was testing my limits, and the risks of over-extending here seemed high.

Lake Alpine, in the Stanislaus National Forest. We swam directly from the granite. Pretty (read: wildly) awesome.

Don’t forget your chairs. To rest, to gaze out across trees and mountains, and talk about how this time we are going to remember to buy a tablecloth that isn’t too small for the park picnic tables.

The trip was hard work. And also fantastic. It’s good to bump up against your limits, and then maybe find a way to push them just a little further out. Have a wonderful weekend everyone.

The post Pushing Limits In The Approach To 70, Or, Saturday Morning at 9:00am appeared first on Privilege.

In thanks for your support, and your time spent here that might on occasions require something more like tolerance, I am offering one of our regular readers a chance at this “sweatshirt.” Quotation marks because I doubt sweat is the use case, given the provenance, i.e. a collaboration between JW Anderson, and the artist, Patrick Carroll.

Don’t you love the way the asymmetry of the traditional “X” below the neckline?

Details of giveaway:

1. You must have commented on a previous post here, with a consistent email address or moniker so I can confirm you’re not, well, taking advantage. And my apologies, but given the current complexities of international trade, this is open only to readers in the USA or the UK, as I will have it sent to you directly from the JWA site.
2. Comment below with a line you like from either Blake or Chaucer. You don’t have to actually like it, pretending-in this situation-is allowed.
3. Entries will close at 7pm Sunday night Pacific Time, I will use a random number generator to pick a winner, edit this post to include the name of the winner (can be the alias you use for commenting) and email that winner to notify him/her.
4. I will ask you in the email if you would like the brown Blake or the blue Chaucer, for your size, and your shipping address.
5. That’s it!

Available in Walnut, or Blue, with embroidered lines from William Blake, or Chaucer, it comes in men’s sizes. To illustrate, here’s the Blue, on me, evidently.

I’m wearing an XS, and could wear an XXS, if I wanted a close fit. The sleeves are long.

A close up of embroidery. Thread ends trail. Embroidered grid represents warp and weft. The artist’s name on a label.

The interior. Not a regular sweatshirt, I gotta say. Cotton with some kind of magic knit.

And yes, I know that Jonathan Anderson, also the head designer of Dior, created the as-yet-unseen dress worn by Taylor Swift at her wedding, as well as the groom’s garb. It must be understood that I’m more excited about Patrick Carroll’s participation than the celebrity connection, given that he is my own dear son.

It’s a really cool piece of clothing. Design/fashion/literary history, I mean, it’s our gig, right?

I’ll be back here Sunday night Pacific Time at 7pm to notify you all of the outcome. Have a wonderful weekend!

Perhaps needless to say, however, I receive no compensation for this post or associated sales

The post Splendid Giveaway: JW Anderson x Patrick Carroll “Painted Birds” Sweatshirt, Or, Saturday Morning at 10:07am appeared first on Privilege.

I am writing this post to encourage you to help flip the House – and at a stretch the Senate – this November. I’m not going to go through all the dreadful things Trump and his backers (for he is by no means solely responsible) have done, you area already familiar, but let’s consider how we constrain him. It’s doable. Red, white and blueable.

First, Are We On The Road Now To Effective Midterms?

1.  Starting January 2025 Trump’s administration has attempted to impose as horrific a regime as we had imagined
2. The current Supreme Court majority turns out to want a world antithetical in many ways to what I, and most of you, believe in
3. The Republican-controlled Congress has ceded its power to Trump and his henchpeople
4. All signs indicate a plan is in place to prevent a Democratic victory in the midterm elections, and that plan is now being carried out to the best of the administration’s ability

This is where our list starts to look up.

1. Mainstream media, which at first glossed over our terrible farce, has begun to report accurately if not passionately. Independent reporters and historians have stepped in to say out loud what many commercial TV stations and periodicals will not.
2. Lower courts, again and again, have repudiated efforts to weaken election processes. Local election officials in many states are resisting. Even the Supreme Court voted to allow counting of mail-in ballots arriving after Election Day.
3. Trump’s approval ratings are supremely low, with the New York Times’s “select pollsters” putting it between 30-38%. And the “best of the administration’s ability” doesn’t seem to be very good. Many of the people charged with executing this malevolent strategy are self-interested, incompetent and corrupt. This is terrible for governance, but good for our chances. We’re pretty competent.
4. Many groups around the country have plans of their own to inform, convince, support and fight for voters’ rights
5. We – just as individuals – can act in multiple ways and we are legion

Slightly Deeper Dive On What’s Been Happening 

Luckily for us, the New York Times has just published comprehensive reporting on, “The Many Ways Trump Is Trying To Tip The Scales For The Midterms.” Here’s a gift link. Please let me know if it doesn’t work for you. They lay out what Trump’s doing:

• Taking steps to nationalize elections
• Trying to tighten voting restrictions (Additional note on the SAVE Act: using reconciliation, rather than the usual process that the NYT addresses, is also likely to fail)
• Pushing for mid-decade redistricting
• Cutting election security (however, organizations are already informing local officials of what to do if troops were to show up at the polls)
• Undermining faith in the electoral system by questioning previous results
• Punishing those who have worked against election denialism

Again, very much worth a read, as a grounding.

A Deeper Dive On What We Can Do, Starting With Institutional Levers

Maybe America was established by privileged white men who just wanted to keep their money rather than pay it to a king across the seas, but somehow when they wrote a Declaration of Independence and a Constitution, it turned out they had to use higher moral values to justify their fight. And sensible people understand that to keep those values in place, you kind of have to apply them to everyone. Oops. So. What to do?

• Vote (No exclamation mark required. You just might want to check to make sure you’re registered.)
• Donate (Even if there’s no candidate you want to support, what about organizations like Swing Left, Indivisible, and the League of Women Voters. If that doesn’t appeal, one of the most impactful thing you can do is donate in support of local officials who are actually administering elections. Or fund the lawyers fighting the good fight.)
• Become active online, comment on public notices (For example, comment in support of mail-in voting)
• Advocate to your friends/community (For many of you this might be really hard. I have it easy, in a blue county in a blue state, with my blue family. I recognize that. But Marc Elias, the lawyer who’s been fighting the election undermining, in court, says it’s the one thing he asks us all to do. I’ll be wearing my We The People t-shirt to Spanish class next week. Small steps.)
• Volunteer with voting/activist groups (again, Swing Left will have a group near you, as will Indivisible. Take a look on their websites and they will show you where groups are active. They usually have Facebook groups. And guess what, they are mostly people pretty much like you.) You can:
  • Write letters (less effective than other actions, but also less effort, so, why not?)
  • Become a poll watcher (I am considering doing this at a poll inland of me. Have just begun to research. I’d do it with a family member – these things are so much less scary with a buddy)
  • Register voters (I especially love to do this on college campuses. I find the opportunities via my local Swing Left group, but they are also listed on Mobilize, where you can search by location. You sign up, a friendly group leader gets in touch.)
  • Canvassing (Scariest of all. Definitely take a friend. And here’s an anecdote. I canvassed two weekends ago in an area that was held by Republicans until California’s recent redistricting. I was struck by how passionate and informed several Democratic voters were, compared to when I canvassed in 2018. They all knew what was happening, and most notably, they all referred to being the “lighthouses” of their friends’ group. (I just made up that term, but I mean they inform and encourage their friends; they are leaders. I didn’t meet anyone like this in 2018.)

On Beyond Comfort Zones To Standing On Stairs?

I had vowed that if the Supreme Court overturned birthright citizenship I’d go stand on their steps with food, water, a sleeping bag and a sign, to stay as long as I was able. In an interview with Ami Fields-Meyer, the LOLGOP Substack reports that “standard democratic tools like courts and elections have a dismal 7% success rate against backsliding. Civil resistance boosts odds to 51%.” I have found Fields-Meyer series on Instagram, on how to become an activist, very informative. If we start with low conflict protests, say, becoming one of the little group of people on the corner outside the mall carrying signs of a weekend, move up to slightly higher conflict, say, No Kings marches, we may become prepared if more is needed. And we hope that never again will the Minneapolis sacrifices be required. Maybe just try a little activism, a little civil, if not disobedience, civil inappropriate. We do what we can, and then we learn to do more, has been my experience.

Where Is Hope To Be Found In Voting, When We’re Cynical?

Here’s the thing. The Supreme Court, and traditional leaders of American industry, along with the Trump-instigated MAGA crowd, might want to roll us back to 1950. However, there is no “rollback” as such that gets us to zero elections if we are to remain America. They can only take us back to when voting was denied to many, with an added fillip of “this election was fraudulent.”

I’m not sure even immoral powers that be (the sane ones) want a country without elections. I doubt they want full-on martial law. Not very fun. I think they’d like their full set of 1950 privileges back, but perhaps not at the cost of chaos. (I believe those who voted for this, and don’t have power, wanted their path to privilege cleared of help given to those who start further back. I don’t think they can get in the way of elections too much, because, power and lack thereof. After we win, we can help them.)

As a result, making it clear that hell no we won’t go, matters. Boycotts, strikes, protests, and most of all citizen civil disobedience like we saw in Chicago and Minneapolis, Portland and New Jersey, even California (and maybe elsewhere but it hasn’t made the news) matter for our future elections.

Finally, if your patriotism is questioned, I found this, on Critical Patriotism and its long history in our country, heartening.

We can do this, you guys. Or if we can’t, at least we will have tried our best. Have a good weekend. I’m sure it’s not lost on anyone that it’s the Fourth of July.

The post To Do The Possible Is Better Than Sitting Frozen On The Sofa, Or, Saturday Morning at 11:00am appeared first on Privilege.

Arranging flowers made my mother anxious. Her mother, the original Grande Dame, had traveled a good deal and after a trip to Japan (I believe, one is never sure), became interested in ikebana. Somehow in the mysterious smoky halls of mother-daughter relationships Nancy decided she was No Good At Flowers. Given she was very good at decorating houses and wearing clothes, this was likely not true.

Related, perhaps, my idea of flower arranging is to slip through my garden, quickly cutting, and then cram my findings into whatever container or containers feel right in the moment. Random florist vases, on the whole.

Up top, I cut all orange flowers in a pot because they were getting close to done and I didn’t feel like deadheading, jammed them into a red vase because it was a good shape, thought of pink, got some.

Below, rescued sprays of white roses that risk fungus or other depredations. Just look at those thorns – wound me plenty, dissuade rose disease not one whit.

In the brief period where the snowball viburnum wilds out, I once thinned a magnolia to keep it abundant company.

Sometimes I grab a fragrant pink tea rose and shove it in a perfume bottle whose stopper I lost decades ago (also who decants perfume these days?) to keep company with a few David Austins in a hotel water bottle. Yahoo! I probably cut the David Austins because they were hanging over the edges of the raised bed. Who knows? Impulsive decisions lost in the sands of time. Hooray!

And sometimes, I surrender, with an array of small glass friends and family also keeping each other company, to wistfulness. Passiflora vine – with its 24-hour flower life – is always willing to remind us, without much moaning and groaning, that years pass and messy stuff can be beautiful, along with others lessons I am probably missing. I am sure you have some to hand, passiflora or lessons, either way.

This is not a post about how to arrange flowers.

Have a wonderful weekend!

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