|Stone Creek Camp, TX|
There's some emotional connective tissue that's bringing together a few differing ideas this afternoon. Firstly, it kinda feels like summer for the first time here in the city. And not a classic SF summer comprised of mid-60's temperatures and fog trailing down along my ankles in the morning as I leave for the office. But, a proper summer. Bright, clear skies this morning. And warm enough to wear shorts to the office (on a day that didn't involve any client meetings!)
And I still do. Sleeping to the sounds of owls hooting or deer wandering and nibbling in the dark night . . . the feel of dew against my face in the early morning . . . and the harsh glare of the dawning sun . . .
So along with our 'as-glorious-as-it's-gonna-get' weather . . . and the fact that I slept last night in my favourite cotton pj's - but, not under my usual pile of blankets and covers - or wearing a cashmere sweater to keep the chill away - but on top of the covers. With the windows open . . .
I'm discovering I have an obsession with sleeping porches. An obsession that I can't quite explain. Well . . . maybe no explanation is needed. I don't think I've ever slept in one.
|Mimi McMakin, House Beautiful|
|Michelle Fries Design|
|Kelly Van Patter, House Beautiful.|
And I think I only slept on our back porch the weekend that I was repainting my bedroom. Clearly I have a very active imaginary life.