I should start by saying that though I’ve gotten to do some fancy things in my life, I am not a fancy person.
I’m happiest when covered in sand and sea salt, preferably mid-surf session. In my ballroom/etiquette class, I was a terrible dance partner, constantly stumbling, stepping on feet, mis-executing moves. When my husband treated me to high-tea at the jaw-droppingly posh Mandarin Oriental Hotel, I spent much of the time wondering why they let me in, recalling every time I’d been elbows deep in blood or mud or sweat after a father-daughter hunt.
But I can’t lie: I’ve also retained into adulthood that little-girl desire to be a princess. I loved getting gussied up for Marine Corps Balls. And when a chance to snag custom jewelry recently arose, I’ll admit: I got a little giddy.
The whole process started when my sweet brother brought me back a handful of gems after his stint serving overseas: one black diamond and three tanzanite drops.
Continue reading “Treat Yo’ Self: Gemstones & Georgetown Jewelry Shops”
Today, I had a ton to do:
- 1.5 hours of setting up my Etsy shop
- 4 hours of painting
- 7 hours of writing
So naturally, I took time out of my busy schedule to make a rather misshapen snow penguin named Hugo, after Victor Hugo of Hunchback of Notre Dame fame. (See aforementioned note re: misshapen-ness.)
To be clear: procrastination is always bad. Unless it involves a snow penguin. Then it’s very, very right.
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Me and Megan: Partners in Colorful Crime
The Husband and Me
Just like Gustav Klimt’s THE KISS… except slightly stickier.
It’s hard to believe it, but the husband and I are already 17 months into our two-year tour in Suriname. That’s a fair chunk of time, but for all we’ve experienced here, one activity still stands out as the clear winner: Holi Phagwa.
As I wrote in my first post on Phagwa, this festival is an important Hindu holiday marking the defeat of evil and the triumph of light. Celebrations are held annually in the Palm Garden park, with musical groups playing, food and beer for purchase, and a tiny train for the wee ones to ride.
My favorite part, however, is the excuse the holiday presents for chunking things (i.e., brilliantly-hued powder) at colleagues, family, and friends. I mean, as adults, how many of these chances do we get (at least without being carted off by the Five-0)? Continue reading “Holi Phagwa 2018: Revenge of the Colors”