For several years now my wool curtains have needed replacing. Moths have eaten them through. It isn't noticeable since there is seating in front of each panel now. But when I go back there the holes are shocking. How dare something eat my beauties! The search for the same curtains has been fruitless. I got them on clearance in 2007. Nothing like them has really surfaced: both sheer enough to let the light in and with that exotic flair until recently.
Today is just one of those days that feels dipped in sepia. Hazy sunshine and cool humidity carried on strong soft winds. Walking home this evening, the air felt like cool silk on the skin and I was really longing for my customary scarf to wrap up in. On the train ride over the bridge, I was looking down on Pier17 and thinking of all the yuppies at the Happy Hour luau. Good weather, good music, good smells and the heady sense that something even better might come out of it. My ideal world is like a waking dream, functioning something like a breezy '80s song full of longing and anticipation for the possibilities always ahead of you, just within reach.