On July 27, the husband and I had our tenth wedding anniversary. Which is crazy because I feel like we just got married! Anyway, we were on our Ocean City family vacation but snuck away that night to have dinner at this newish BYOB, Sunday Gravy, in nearby Linwood. We'd heard it was great, and, happily, the food was as delicious as advertised. I had the Crab Positano, which was lump crabmeat, tomatoes, and garlic over gemelli. And the husband had the eponymous Sunday Gravy, which was braised beef and pork, meatballs, sausage, and gravy over a pasta called paccheri. We also shared a side of buttery broccoli and a Caesar salad, which had these addictive little cheese cracker things in it. Everything was lovely. We'll definitely be back!
Earlier that day, my mom and I peeked into Asbury Avenue's Sun Rose Words and Music. It isn't often that I get a chance to browse an independent bookstore, and it's always so much fun. Even though I get most of my books from Amazon, I was so excited that I decided to buy a couple of paperbacks, preferably some not already on my Amazon list. So I scanned the mysteries and stopped when I found the lone Lee Hollis. Lee Hollis -- which isn't one person, but a brother and sister team -- writes cozy mysteries, and I'd read one or two novellas as part of compilations including Leslie Meier and other cozy queens. But this was the first full-length novel I'd stumbled upon in person and it was called, no lie, Death of a Wedding Cake Baker. How weird was that on my anniversary?! (I also bought Mary Kay Andrews' Hello Summer, but more on that later.)
Once back home (home home, not beach house home), I slogged through the book I was reading (which was a real stinker), then dove right in. And it was such a delight. Heroine Hayley Powell's bestie, Liddy Crawford, is engaged to a younger man with whom she has a prickly relationship. But those problems pale when Liddy's wedding cake baker -- who also happens to be her incredibly mean-spirited cousin -- turns up dead. There's all sorts of wedding-related high-jinks and intrigue in this Bar Harbor-set story, interspersed with Hayley's funny and nostalgic newspaper columns. The mystery itself is also satisfying, and there's even a cliffhanger. I'm definitely adding Lee Hollis to my go-to reading roster -- and planning a return trip to Sun Rose!
So yeah, July 27 was a special day. And not just because I got to eat seafood and buy a book. But because I got to celebrate a decade of being married to my best friend. I say it a lot and maybe it's a cliché, but it couldn't be more true. As you may have observed, I'm not someone who clicks with people easily, or, quite honestly, clicks with people at all. So to have met someone who gets me -- and whom I get too -- is nothing short of a miracle.
It also helps that he takes good pictures.
As you know, when I'm in between new outfit pics -- or just need a laugh -- I like to post old B roll. Today is one of those days. So enjoy this quintet of quirky facial expressions from falls and winters past. Because I may not be Helen of Troy -- but if I float one boat, then I've earned by Greek yogurt.
By which, of course, I mean ice cream.🍨
Most of my life, I've thought of rainbows as residing firmly in the realm of the sparkly. I blame this on Lisa Frank and, to an extent, My Little Pony. So, when more rustic rainbows with ragged cream "clouds" came on the scene, I was like, what?! No princess would ever slide down that thing! But, as with so many trends, those boho bands of color eventually wrapped themselves around my heart. And before I knew it, I was purchasing my very own ragged rainbow pendant to use in an enormous necklace. Two rows of fruit beads later, and the Rustic Rainbow Necklace was born (like I'd call it anything else!). Its hint of hippie vibe says, "I'm fun -- but I also have a social conscience."
What more could I -- or Lisa Frank -- want?
Because when you go bright, you never go wrong. Unless, of course, your craft is so colorful that it attracts a posse of pirates who commandeer it for their rutabaga smuggling ring (when it comes to contraband, root vegetables are funnier than rum.) If that doesn't say piece-of-Pirates-of-the-Caribbean-footage-on-the-cutting-room-floor, then I don't know what does.
Unless it's Johnny Depp dressed as a rutabaga and belting out a ribald riddle.
By the way, I hear that Mr. Depp's bankrupt. For enough clams, I bet he'd be down.
And here they are au naturel (unless you count my nail polish):
And, finally, here they are in their Lisa Frank sticker-bedecked keepsake box: