This Friday found F and I traipsing along on E’s field trip. We explored our urban prairies and enjoyed an absolutely glorious fall day outside.
And while the class found themselves listening to our conservation guide, F found herself much more interested in the amphitheater.
On our way home (after leaving the rest of the class at school) we refueled at Rue Lafayette and found two cool things. The first is this old advertisement. I think it will sit or hang on the new living room bookcases. The reason it caught my eye was the name – Bianchi, which is my Italian family name several generations back. I may have a collection of European heritages, but I’ll always claim my Italian piece first. And I lived in Genoa, not far from Milan, and I live amongst car nuts, so it seems just about perfect.
The other find is so, so cute and unique and photographs beautifully, but alas, it’s a gift for my sister so I just can’t share it here. It’s getting near that season when the finds get a bit more secretive.
And oh yeah, we just happened to stumble upon a slice of lemon mascarpone cake and a croissant to tide us over until dinner. Although the cake was so good, I wouldn’t be opposed to calling it dinner.
I hope you found something beautiful in your own backyard (urban or not), and perhaps even something sweet. Do share.
Christmas card inspiration is flowing. I love these block printed cards by Love and Reason
and more good stuff on her blog.
I’m always thinking of ways to produce one, and then produce one hundred. And after an all-white design last year, I’m hungry for color.
After years of prefacing most of my conversations with things like “So, today at work I was listening to NPR and…” or “On the way home they were doing this story on NPR…”, M finally pointed out (nicely) that I could just leave those leading lines out of my story because by now they were understood. I’m a self-proclaimed NPR junkie, although I don’t listen to it all day long like I once did. Now that E is getting older she is starting to request “music, any music please, as long as it’s not someone talking” when we are in the car. And now that I’m getting older, my tolerance for the same crappy music and four billion commercials is waning. Occasionally there’s a compromise – usually when there’s the kind of gripping storytelling going on during a show like “This American Life”, and then I wonder if perhaps the content might just be a little bit too much for her. But at least she’s not sighing about the talking, and I’m not left singing the same Katy Perry line over and over in my head for the next three days.
Apparently my mother also knows my affinity for public radio. She was helping a friend sort through and get rid of a house full of things prior to a move and saw this mug and knew exactly who the new owner should be. Now I can just lift my glass of coffee before starting a story at work, and be already halfway through it before I even open my mouth.