Heat Haze

 

It seems like you could, but

you can't go back and pull

the roots and runners and replant.

It's all too deep for that.

You've overprized intention,

have mistaken any bent you're

given

for control. You thought you chose

the bean and chose the soil.

You even thought you abandoned

one or two gardens. But those

things

keep growing where we put them -

if we put them at all.

A certain kind of Eden holds us

thrall.

Even the one vine that tendrils out

alone

in time turns on its own impulse,

twisting back down its upward course

a strong and then a stronger rope,

the greenest saddest strongest

kind of hope.

 

 

A Certain Kind Of Eden, by Kay Ryan via 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Outfit:

1930s style dark floral dress: from a charity shop

Vintage 1950s rose head scarf: inherited from granny Kiki

Black sunhat: old from the high street

Nude pumps: old from New Look

Silver earrings, just seen: from Accesorize

 

 

 

The Soundtrack:

 Sergei Rachmaninov: Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini in A minor

 

 

 

All photos taken by me in our garden, using the self timer during the final gasp of our hot summer.

 

 

 I am delighted to be a part of the next Visible Monday, hosted by Patti from Not Dead Yet Style, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.

 

 

P.S. Not that any of us need any help with dressing and living well, but I found this recent documentary about inspiring octogenarian beauties absolutely brilliant and think you would too. Click on the link here to watch it:

Fabulous Fashionistas: Channel 4 Documentary

 

 

Beach Hut Life

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She goes, she is, she wakes the waters

primed in their wave-form, a flux of urge

struck into oneness, the solid surge

seeking completion, and strikes and shatters

 

and is its fragments, distinction’s daughters

and now, unholding, the cleave and merge

the hew and fusing, plundering the verge

and substance is the scheme it scatters

 

and what it numbers in substantial sun.

Her hands hold many or her hands hold none.

And diving the salt will kiss a convex eye

 

and be salt fact and be the bodied sky

and that gray weight is both or beggared one,

a dead dimensional, or blue begun.

 

 

(She goes, she is, she wakes the waters) by Karen Volkman via 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Outfit:

 

Pale Yellow Breton Top: bought in a charity shop, originally from Boden

 

Red Gingham Capri Pants: bought in a different charity shop, originally from H&M

 

Straw Hat: bought in yet another charity shop, originally from Accessorize

 

Vintage Rose Print Scarf Tied Around Hat: from Kiki

 

Sunglasses: from the High Street can't remember where

 

Nude Pumps: very old from New Look

 

 

 

The Soundtrack

 

Beth Orton: She Cries Your Name 

 

 

 

Portraits of me taken by my Mum on my little digital camera while we had lunch together at our beach hut, other photos taken by me. 

As Mr Eve and I live near to my folks, every summer we all share the cost to rent this little hut at a nearby beach.

 

 

I'm delighted to be a part of the next Visible Monday, hosted by the lovely Patti from www.notdeadyetstyle.blogspot.co.uk, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.

 

 

Oh as you probably already know, Google reader is shutting down on the 1st July, so if you'd like to follow me another way then click on my Bloglovin' button to the left of this post, or click here.