What: Gentle Fawn romper, pretty Peruvian scarf from a Bodega Bay skate shop (you just never know!), thrifted yellow sash tied into belt, Nocona cowboy boots. Embroidered, beaded clutch with purple leather trim by Dolce Vita.
Confession: I haven't washed my hair since Friday morning. The TJ's Mango shaving cream just might have beat out the TJ's Tangerine Sugar Scrub. I really, truly am sick to death of this heat - you tell me - when is summer going to finally get it that it's no longer wanted around here? Yesterday was so dry and so cold, like it is on Thanksgiving almost, with a swift, mean wind and today was just this sick, steady heat.
Thank heavens this is a four-day work week for me. The service was yesterday. I wore the same exact black dress I wore the last time Norton and I danced together. The tomboy has taken such good care of me, y'all. Last night she called our friend from Memphis for her fried chicken recipe, and she whipped it up from scratch with some homemade french fries, too. I needed comfort food real bad. Not long after eating I fell asleep on the couch and slept for 14 hours straight, though M moved me to the bed eventually.
Tonight, for the first time since I've met her, she made me her ridiculously delicious chicken enchiladas. That's right. In nearly four years, she hasn't once made 'em, but you bet they were worth waiting for.
PS. So, Angel Island is on fire. Like, really on fire. All campers are evacuated, and no one lives there but state park rangers. It's isolated, so it can't spread anywhere where it'll hurt anyone. All of that is good, though fire in general is bad. Some say it's terrible and beautiful, and you might agree: