go to your happy place

Saturday was absolutely glorious--sunny skies, yummy brunch, restful reflection...

I met up with the family at Leunig's Bistro on Saturday morning to wish mon frère a fond farewell and indulge in some scrumptious french toast with strawberry butter (and VT maple syrup, bien sûr!), and the best mimosa I've ever tasted!

(skirt/shirt/belt: Bargain Boutique; shoes: Seychelles; handbag: consignment)

When I bought this skirt it was seriously frump-tastic... like something Nicki Grant (Chloe S.)might wear on Big Love. It fell at mid-calf, a length that I loathe to admit is climbing up the trend ladder (because I'm just too short to pull it off, faux-pas or no), but I saw major potential in the cinched waist, slight flare and summery powder blue hue.

I didn't hem it quite as high as I am usually inclined to do... I rather like feeling that my nether parts are safely concealed at all times!

After brunch, K and I idled away the afternoon in true Vermont fashion. While K fished, I reposed on the riverbank with Flaubert's fabulous & classic Madame Bovary, which I am loving (I can't believe this is my first turn through its pages!).

There is something so incredibly calm about the constant rippling of a river on a summer day. At times like these, I am so grateful to live in such a beautiful place--anywhere you go in Vermont you are only minutes away from complete isolation, and the mountains have an insulating effect that dampers any errant noise.

That evening we headed into town to see K's friend Justin play at Nectar's. It was a good show, and the first time we'd seen him play with a full band. We had planned to go out for drinks when he was done, but then this happened:

We had parked in a TAXI ONLY (after 12 am) zone, assuming that we would get out of the show when he finished his set at 11:30 and move the car before any post-gig festivities. Unfortunately, when we finally left the bar we were greeted by the flashing lights of a tow truck and a little white subaru with her nose in the air. I imagine I was quite a sight, sprinting in my Seychelles down the sidewalk, but the tow truck driver was not the devil incarnate (like most of his compatriots), and he agreed to lower my car back onto the asphalt (for a fee, of course), whereupon K ran to an ATM and overdrew his bank account for me. He's such a gem. Needless to say, my well-rested mind was once again sent into an agitated state and we decided to forgo cocktails on the town for a glass of whiskey in the comfort of our own home. Such is life, yes?