Never Never Netherlands: Layers of Levity

Blouse: Candie's, Kohl's

Dress: Speechless, Kohl's

Blouse: Candie's, Kohl's

Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily; Belt: Marshalls; Bag: Francesca's; Yellow bangles: B Fabulous; Pink bangle: Don't Ask, Zulily

Dress: So, Kohl's

Dress: Xhilaration, Target

Sweater: Hooked Up, Macy's

Good things come in layers.  Cakes, bar cookies (which are a lot like cakes), lasagnas, and, of course, clothes!  Spring is the perfect time to slip on a sweater over a dress, or a dress over a blouse.  Here I am doing just that, twice in front of a windmill.  This household has an affinity for all things Dutch (which is fitting, the house itself being a Dutch colonial).  And it doesn't get much more Dutch than a windmill.  My parents got this one for the husband for his birthday a couple of years back, and when the winds are high, it really gets going.  Just last week it was spinning so furiously that I thought it was going to take off.  So I dashed outside to rescue it.  If only the operation went as easily as that sentence suggests!  Once I wrapped my arms around the cedar cylinder, I realized that it was much heavier than I anticipated.  Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, I thought, dragging it off the lawn, then hoisting it over the cement to avoid damaging it (like Larry David, I respect wood).  I got as far as the back door when I put it down, unsure how to wrestle it up the steps.  Then another wind swept in, tilting the windmill precariously toward my car.  Fueled by a surge of adrenaline (mothers save their kids from getting crushed by cars; I save my car from getting crushed by tchotchkes), I lifted it up the steps and forced it through the door.  Exhausted, I left it in the entryway.  In the cramped space it looked even bigger, like a lighthouse protecting a gray sea -- of tile, that is.  I thought maybe we could keep it in the house for good, dismissing the fear that mice or some other vermin might be squatting inside.  Later that night, when the husband came home, he couldn't believe I'd been able to carry it.  When I suggested that it live with us, he was less than amused.  (Well, actually, he was very amused.  But that didn't make him go for it.)

The next morning, the windmill was back out on the lawn.

I don't think there's anything more to say except to quote the chorus of "Feel Good Inc." from Gorillaz:

"Windmill, windmill for the land

Turn forever hand in hand

Take it all in on your stride

It is ticking, falling down

Love forever, love is freely

Turned forever, you and me

Windmill, windmill for the land

Is everybody in?"

I'm sure that whatever they're singing about is far more serious than the fate of some lawn ornament.  That said, the husband is probably right.  Windmills belong out in the elements, taking chances like nature intended.

And providing shelter for the gorillas.  

Produce in Paradise: Whoa, Where's My Pizza?

Sweater: Mudd, Kohl's; Shoes: Unlisted, Marshalls; Belt: Marshalls

Rainbow Palms Brooch Barrette

Skirt: Candie's, Kohl's

No, I'm not talking about a thick, cheesy pie smothered in ham chunks and pineapple rings.  I'm talking about my new pineapple purse . . . and, eventually, my dearly departed DiGiorno.  The purse was an early birthday gift, and I was mighty excited to get it.  Not just because it's cute, but because it's one of the few full-size (I do have a pineapple coin purse) fruits missing from my fashion fruit basket.

Bag: Amazon

Speaking of tropical things, here's that warm weather post in the dead of winter.  How did it get here so fast?!  

To celebrate/commemorate/hibernate, I made this Rainbow Palms Brooch Barrette, which features twin palm trees on a stretch of strawberry-lemon sand, a rainbow rising between them.  Can you say Calgon, take me away?  (Unlike the ocean, Calgon lacks sea lice and sewage.)

When I was little, I used to like that song "(Put the Lime in the) Coconut."  I still sing it in my head whenever a big boatload of fruit loot washes ashore (which happens more often than you might think).  But these days I should be singing about putting the lime in the raspberry.  Because not too long ago, a retailer that shall remain nameless dropped off three cases of sparkling water -- one lime, one cherry, and one raspberry-lime -- that I didn't order.  It was mixed in with the stuff I did order, though, so I just shrugged and put it in the pantry.  Now, before you go all citizen's arrest, I should point out that one of my orders from this same store was once delivered to someone else, and yet another order was never delivered at all.  Needless to say, this place is now dead to me.  But when it came to the free drinks, I chalked it up to a round of retail roulette.  (My apologies if I've said this already; it's tough to tell what I've broadcasted and what I haven't with the incessant inner monologue that is quarantine brain.)  You know how it is with online food shopping.  Sometimes another household gets your Friday night frozen pizza and ice cream, and sometimes you get some stranger's spray butter (true story on both accounts, although I've yet to try the butter.)  You win some, you lose some, and it all comes out in the wash.  Just like Barbara Boxer says about dry cleaner mix-ups during that (but aren't they all?) cringeworthy confrontation with Larry David on Curb Your Enthusiasm.  No, she will not support legislation to return patrons' lost garments because the pants she's wearing aren't even hers!  Anyway, I don't like sparkling water.  No matter what flavor it is, it always tastes like a fruit salad farted into an exhaust pipe.  So, to use it up, I mix it with limeade and maraschino cherry juice, and it isn't half bad.  Because what doesn't give you diabetes makes you stronger -- and less likely to eviscerate some poor Shipt driver on Yelp.

In honor of no-show groceries everywhere, I'll leave you with this: Missing milk carton on a milk carton.  Think about that for five seconds.