Wild mountain rose

Our Women’s History Month earworm today comes from Trio, the 1987 collaboration between Emmylou Harris, Dolly Parton and Linda Ronstadt. Their voices blend on the harmonies like streams flowing into a river. And the message of “Wildflowers” reminds me of my BFF’s mantra: bloom where you’re planted.

 

Plus de Schiap

There were too many things to share about the Elsa Schiaparelli exhibition at musée des Arts décoratifs in one post. So here are some more pix.

Specifically, some of her gloves:

And some of her jewelry:

A lot of Schiap’s fashions sported elaborate embroidery; she worked for a number of years with Albert Lesage, whose hand-embroidered business is still alive in Paris (and runs an embroidery school). Here are a couple of examples:

 

 

Getting out

The sky was on fire the other morning when I went out for my walk.

Things like this are what keep me going out, even when the temps are low and there’s a cutting wind.

 

 

 

Oh, baby!

Back in December, this was one of the vanity plates I reported on:

At the time, I didn’t know what it meant. My yoga instructor, a Russian speaker, said it looked like Russian, “[P]ronounced ‘krochah’, with ch like in Scottish loch. Means baby although I have never heard this word before.”

Well, I replied that I’d been thinking Greek, so I looked it up by kludging the Greek alphabet into Google Translate:

However, Friday morning I spotted the car once again parked by the W&OD Trail, with someone in the driver’s seat. So I approached (though staying about two meters away). The window rolled down to reveal a blonde with distinctive Slavic cheekbones.

I asked if the license plate was Greek.

No.

Russian?

Yes.

So my instructor was right. Baby it is, and now she’s heard the word in use.

 

 

Gratitude Monday: finally

Eight weeks out from total knee replacement, on Friday I clocked 9100 steps and managed the child’s pose (mostly) in yoga. No pain meds (not even Tylenol) all day or overnight.

I think I’m glad I had the surgery.