un jour pluvieux encore

(a rainy day again)






If it's going to be raining and cold and dreary - for five days straight, at least put me in another country and city to spare me from this wet torture. Isn't rain in France more civilized and sophisticated?

Sparkling Shiny Goodness from Grizzly Bear

When in Jamestown, Rhode Island....

Do as the Jamestowners do....grab a panini at the Village Hearth Bakery.



Then head to Beavertail State Park for a hike around the rocks, and seaweed, the tidal pools, and the lighthouse that's perched on the tip of Conanicut Island.



After you're sufficiently pummeled by the surf and have navigated around the craggy rocks and slippery mounds of seaweed, the only thing you can do next is go for a quick ice cream at the Spinnaker's Cafe - found right in the marina.


And then finally, it's a nice circuitous drive around the winding old lanes.....back home.



More about Jamestown *here*.

Hi, Old Friend

Temperatures are possibly getting into the 90's today, in Boston. That can mean only one thing: time to stock up and open up the Tavel rosé.

We discovered this libation in Brussels.

Read more about where, when, and how *here*.

Problem Solved!

French Market, $42 @ Medina Baskets

I may not have the opportunity THIS summer to stroll in my sandals around St-Germain and the markets of rue Cler, but at least I'll be at the ready.

I love my puppy

Is it so wrong?

To play catch.

And throw.

And catch.

And then over throw the ball.

Again and again....and laugh hysterically....

because no matter where, how far, how high I throw the ball my puppy son will try. so. hard. to catch it.

and run after the ball.

and jump for the ball.

while I'm laughing so hard I can barely see through the tears.

While on my way to work today......

(above photo from Paul Levy's blog)

(above photo from Paul Levy's blog)

Along the Muddy River that runs along the Brookline-Boston border there's a wonderful installation of random sculpture. Studio Without Walls seems to be responsible for Nature and Artifice. Part of raising awareness for the Restoration Project of the Emerald Necklace Conservancy, this will be running from May through June 28. Take a stroll and you too can enjoy these enormous bag worms in the lush green of the banks of the Muddy River.

Making Friends
by Amy Ozols May 11, 2009
(from the New Yorker)

Hello, six-year-old child.

Seeing as how fate has brought us together here, in the crowded coach section of this expensive airplane, I thought I should introduce myself.

My name is Amy, and I’m an adult. I suspect that you’re too young to understand what “adult” means, so let me explain. It means that I’m taller than you, and smarter, and that I get to do lots of awesome things, like smoke cigarettes and ovulate. It also means that I like to take naps on airplanes and read my newspaper in silence. These things seem to be very different from the things that you like to do.

I’ve gleaned from its near-constant utterance by the woman sitting next to you—your mother, I suppose, or perhaps a social worker or a federal prisoner who’s being paid to spend time with you—that your name is Timmy. It’s probably Timothy, actually, but people call you Timmy because it’s cuter. Which is appropriate, Timmy, because you’re very cute, you really are. You’re really very f*cking cute.

I’m going to drink this cup of coffee—would you like some? I didn’t think so. You’re more of a juice-box man, from what I gather. The way I gather this is by looking at the stain on my ninety-eight-dollar pants, the one you made when you put your juice box there. If I touched your pants, Timmy, I would probably be sent to jail. There are lots of differences between you and me, but that’s one of the big ones: the quality and the seriousness of what happens when we touch other people’s pants.

You’re not much of a sleeper, are you, Timmy? We’ve just met, but it seems to me like maybe you don’t really enjoy sleeping all that much. In fact, it seems to me that one of your greatest joys in life is wakefulness—and not simply passive wakefulness but the kind of vigorous wakefulness that makes a person like me start to question the very possibility of silence as a condition that can exist in the universe. I can see that I’ve confused you, Timmy, and I apologize; I was only trying to point out that you really seem to enjoy being awake. Let me make it up to you by giving you this modest dose of Ambien. It’s a kind of candy for your soul. Your soul is a kind of mouth that’s inside your brain.

Here comes the nice stewardess lady with a bag for collecting people’s garbage. Would you like me to give her some of the garbage that’s strewn all over your seat—and, if we’re being perfectly honest here, Timmy, all over my seat as well? And, while we’re at it, maybe I could give her this talking doll—the one that sings songs, very loud songs, songs of terrifying and ungodly volume, from that animated movie about adventurous insects. It’s not that I don’t love the doll; it’s just that I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for children to carry such things on airplanes. Have you heard of terrorism, Timothy? That’s why it’s illegal for you to have this doll.

Your whimpering and your dripping facial parts suggest that perhaps this conversation has run its course, so I’ll let you get back to your finger painting, your fidgeting, and your wanton, inexplicable shredding of the in-flight magazine. I’ll be here in my seat, fantasizing about hurtling my childless adult body out of the airplane and into the sky. Enjoy the rest of the flight, Timmy. I’ve really enjoyed sitting next to you. It’s fun to make new friends. ♦

ILLUSTRATION: MICHAEL KUPPERMAN

Duth my retainer make me thound funny?

Did you every wish you had to wear a retainer? Did you ever want to be the kid that came to school with a new pair of glasses, dramatic hair cut, or new braces?

I did.

So starved for attention, I guess.

I finally got the braces and the dramatic hair-cut. Sort of got busted by the Optometrist when I faked poor vision-so, no glasses, but I really thought the whole retainer, braces, rubber-band, mouth appliance were all so way cool.

This was today. This was my 5th grade year.

And instead of the real thing, me and my friend Susan Conklin would either fashion a paper clip around our teeth or, even better, get a huge wad of gum and stick to the roof of our mouths. And then we'd talk for as long as we could, pretending we had really serious orthodontia going on.

So, as a memento of my more innocent days as a needy-nerdy-5th-grader, I thought I'd get this:



Retainer Necklace [2006]

By Kiel Mead

Sterling Silver or 14 K Gold-Plated

30" Chain

Cast from his brother's retainer, Kiel Mead offers this hunk of orthodontic nostalgia to those who want to wear their most awkward phases around their necks. Just make sure you don't set it down and throw it out with your lunch tray.


Silver in stock; Gold ships within 3 weeks.


From T H E F U T U R E P E R F E C T

Just One Day.

Hey Mommy, we've got a Mother's Day coming up.

A Mother's Day?

Yeah, a Mother's day. Don't moms get like 5 Mother's Days a year?

No. Just one day is called Mother's Day.

Really!? 'Cuz kids get like 10 days a year.

Ice in the round

Another reason to stare at your cocktail: spherical ice.

Found here :: momastore