Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘green button’


I remember strolling through Golden Gate Park on my way to meet you. It was dusk on a Thursday in the early spring, and the gardens were starting to bloom in a profusion of greens. We were rendezvousing near the Moon-Viewing Garden, where we planned to share a wee park bench picnic. A delicate, warm spring drizzle started, so I threw on my brown corduroy newsboys cap, and fastened my olive and tan Glen plaid rain cape’s olive green leather buttons. Blinking, I skidded to a sudden stop; there was a posse of grey squirrels with their short furry arms linked to form a barrier across the walkway. Would I make it on time, or would I be delayed by bushy-tailed bandits?
“Every time it rains, it rains
Pennies from heaven
Don’t you know each cloud contains
Pennies from heaven.
You’ll find your fortune’s falling
All over the town
Be sure that your umbrella
Is upside down.
Trade them for a package of
Sunshine and flowers
If you want the things you love,
You gotta have showers
So when you hear it thunder,
Don’t run under a tree
There’ll be pennies from heaven
For you and me.”

(By J. Burke and A. Johnston)

Advertisements

Read Full Post »


I remember the train ride, and meandering through the Swiss Alps right after sunrise. The morning sun warmed my lap as it poured through the small square passenger window, and the pristine snow sparkled blindingly in the early morning light. I sleepily buttoned the forest green vintage buttons on my ocher and green striped cable-knit cardigan, straightened my dark green and navy foulard bow tie, and prepared to depart for the dining car for a light breakfast. I ordered a café au lait with some plain rolls with butter and quince jelly, and thought about my journey as I ate.
“Oh that is nice work if you can get it.
And you can get it — if you try.
Strolling with the one girl
Sighing sigh after sigh…
Oh nice work if you can get it.
And you can get it — if you try.”

(By G. Gershwin)

Read Full Post »

Preparing for sleep, I wonder if the surfeit of caviar and muttering clairvoyants will lead to misshapen dreams. Lately my dreams have been strewn with mysterious floods, stilt-walking ballerinas, flying, and lost musical instruments. I fasten the olive green Italian buttons on my plain, coffee brown, worn lawn pajamas, and start a bedtime ritual that I hope will bring a night of pleasant and deep sleep. There is a thin china cup of warm sweetened milk, a stack of soft snickerdoodles, and a copy of the complete works of Dorothy Parker.
“Back of my back, they talk of me,
Gabble and honk and hiss;
Let them batten, and let them be-
Me, I can sing them this:
“Better to shiver beneath the stars,
Head on a faithless breast,
Than peer at the night through rusted bars,
And share an irksome rest.”

Read Full Post »

It has been a time of slow moving change; 2009 was the kind of year where we trudge along grimly wondering sadly if the past is any indication of the future. I’m overjoyed to say I’m beginning to see the light now, and that it is composed of delicate pink party lights, and washes of warm yellow moonlight. Tonight, I am celebrating by going out La Sirène in Soho. I plan on eating an excessive dinner of Salade de Betteraves Fraiches Roties au Four (roasted beet salad, with pistachio, apple & brie), Aile de Raie Charlotte (pan seared skate fish with mango, caper non pareilles, & lime), and Iles Flotantes, Crème Anglaise et Caramel aux Amandes (meringue, caramel and almonds, & vanilla custard). I am dressed for the occasion in a midnight green and charcoal grey hounds-tooth double-breasted jacket with flat green buttons, a 1970’2 tie in evergreen and orange with the Golden Gate bridge on it, a grey silk shirt, burnt orange fine-wale corduroy slacks, and midnight green oiled suede side-zip ankle boots. I toss on my grey wool fedora, kiss my cat goodbye on her furry little head, grab a copy of “To See and See Again: A Life in Iran and America” by Tara Bahrampour, and leave my apartment for La Sirène.

“Well, I’m beginning to see the light.
Some people work very hard,
But still they never get it right.
Well, I’m beginning to see the light…
I met myself in a dream,
And I just want to tell you,
Everything was alright.”

(By L. Reed)

Read Full Post »

I’m cooking at 1 am on a Tuesday night wearing a ratty cotton cable-knit sweater with green buttons, and orange striped pajama pants. Roxy Music is playing “Avalon” and the moon is full. While stirring the Welsh Rabbit, I think of Julia Child, “If you’re afraid of butter, use cream.” I use both.
“Now the party’s over
I’m so tired
Then I see you coming
Out of nowhere
Much communication in a motion
Without conversation or a notion
Avalon
When the samba takes you
Out of nowhere
And the background’s fading
Out of focus
Yes the picture changing
Every moment
And your destination
You don’t know it
Avalon
When you bossa nova
There’s no holding
Would you have me dancing
Out of nowhere
Avalon”

(By Bryan Ferry)
Green vintage button

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: