summer: a sweet disorder

summer hiking leg wear

hiking in big springs

new for summer:

1) hiking is my new, shoulderless yoga.  since i have a shoulder injury and have to take it super easy in yoga, i'm doing more hiking instead, and i'm learning how much ego and competitiveness is still left in me, though i had fooled myself into thinking i was uber-enlightened.

2) bare legs are the new tights.  i'm not sure what to do with all this liberation & freedom.  i miss my, as it were, corsets for the leg.  my scarves, jackets, tights, leggings, and so on.  minimalist summer dressing can feel boring after a while, and gives you nothing to hide behind, to disarrange.

3) cherries are the new strawberries.  i don't love strawberries.  the best fruit in the world is now in season.  making a clafoutis this weekend.  had a salad last weekend with fresh cherry. eating cold cherries while i write

4) city of provo summer adventure camp is the new summer school.  i decided to let my elementary kids off the hook this time and not make them go to june summer school.  shout out the the wonderful counselors and fun activities the kids are doing with them this summer, and to the city for providing affordable activities and recreation for its citizens.  i really, really like the city of provo more with each passing year.

5) herrick is the new herbert.

jk.

herrick could never, ever replace herbert.  never.  but herrick makes me happy.  herbert makes me float.  herrick makes me smile.  i love the abandon and lack of censor in this poem, and, i just happened to run across it while i was thinking of how much i hate not wearing structured clothing for three months of the year.

Delight in Disorder

BY ROBERT HERRICK

A sweet disorder in the dress

Kindles in clothes a wantonness;

A lawn about the shoulders thrown

Into a fine distraction;

An erring lace, which here and there

Enthrals the crimson stomacher;

A cuff neglectful, and thereby

Ribands to flow confusedly;

A winning wave, deserving note,

In the tempestuous petticoat;

A careless shoe-string, in whose tie

I see a wild civility:

Do more bewitch me, than when art

Is too precise in every part.