On the first Sunday in weeks together and alone, You and Me set out to see the city on foot. White shoes, sunny skies, let’s try this neighborhood on for size. Somewhere between breakfast and lunchtime, turn up our noses at donut lines, beeline for eggy Portuguese treats, with a side of cilantro and fresh lime. I love Foxes and maybe that’s the Point, after all, therein lives your favorite coffee joint. All the way down Gano to the pink non-hotel, under the bridge, green river smell. Approaching our new regular- the one full of expectancy- we spot silly kids dangling atop our catalyst of synergy. All the while you play harmonica and I speak in rhyme, tomorrow singing Yesterday will be today’s paradigm.
We had Nick’s, we shared old bay popcorn, we watched indiefilms, we made cornmeal blueberry pancakes. We shared space, we adopted cacti, we antiqued. We put a new spin on an old school game, we napped, we laughed. We spokeeasy twice, we donned a red fez. We crafted in the sanctuary, we admired the Pearl, made a new bridge friend, we visited an old one. We ate pears and pico and peanut butter. We hoofed it downtown, we got lost in the watery fires, we hunted wine, we met friendly faces. We invaded Brown, we limboed lower, we sipped Del’s, we climbed a roof. We sat in ghostly study halls discussing the miracle of childbirth. We rubbed tired eyes. We held hands. We walked home.
June began with a wedding and ended with a window. The weeks between brought sunshine, studying and sugar. Most days were dominated by a study of the social history of Providence as chronicled in architecture (one of the best college courses I’ve taken thus far) and twirling about with Free People. In the sugar department the aforementioned gourmet donuts via new kids on the block, pvdonuts, do indeed taste every bit as good as they look. You can’t call yourself a pvd kid until you’ve tried one, and they are well worth the wait. So go get ’em, guys.
In travel news, it seems Watch Hill always calls us without warning. But I’m not complaining; our spontaneous trips to Westerly always yield good conversation and a refreshing shift in perspective. Together we leave with a deeper understanding of each other, the kind only an empty beach, popcorn, and pinot grigio can invoke. And of course, Olympia Tea Room never disappoints- sometimes Marcia even offers free cake…
a time to build up, a time to break down a time to dance, a time to mourn a time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together.
As they say, to everything, there is a season. There has been much food, culture, and luxuriating in my favorite little state these past few weeks. I’m looking forward to getting back into my tea and homework tours soon, but for now, we turn turn turn…
In this space between The Lake and Eaton Street, this time between curtain call and class introductions, lives a rare creature: a vaguely familiar shadow of me, one that feeds on a careful mix of relaxation and exploration, leisure and productivity. The incarnation appears in the intermission between season and school, adventuring and sleeping and biking and eating one too many cheese plates (is there such a thing?).
Swan Lake closed just about 3 weeks ago, and my summer school semester at Providence College begins Monday night (Social History- Providence Architecture!), and in the mean time I’ve been filling the gap between the Bean and PVD. Stay tuned for more from Providence, but for some recent snaps around Boston…
+ a stop in for English breakfast, a raspberry fruit box and floral inspiration at the newly enlarged Tatte in Brookline
+ perusing the (immaculate) shelves at Boston General Store (also in Brookline) just in time for a lovely bridal brunch at Pride’s Crossing
+ my first visit to M’s favorite Saffra Bakery for avocado french toast
Theatre week has officially begun! We were at The Vets until 10 pm last night for the first of many teching, testing, spacing, and dressing rehearsals before Friday’s opening. Swanning about night after night promises to be quite exhausting. I’m feeling grateful for what’s keeping me grounded between flights, a few fresh things around my home:
this little sprig……because bell flowers should always reside next to bell garlands.
this embroidered sleeve……because it’s attached to a new jacket that makes me feel like the coolest lady ever.
this envelope……for being wall-worthy.
this little group of matches……because I’ve been separating my collection into minis, and it feels surprisingly new.
these flowers in a tall beaker……because PEONY SEASON!
this powerhouse granola……because it was “accidentally” left behind by a sneaky manfriend (plus it’s the most colorful and delicious* granola option in PVD).
these mossy friends……for breathing some springy life into my bathroom counter after a little chop and some fresh water.
this little bit of lace……because it was a spontaneous purchase and I do not regret it one bit.
this invitation……because it’s not every day one of your oldest friends gets married- with an invitation as beautiful as her friendship to accompany the occasion (and yes, this will also be clipped up on the wall. if anyone knows how to resist taking decorational advantage of beautiful script, a vintage ribbon and an actual leaf, please, don’t tell me!)
*verity of this statement to be determined…stay tuned…
Thank you, last weekend, for deciding to be delicious and sunny. Thank you for taking M and me to the West side of PVD for drinks at the dark little bar that always evokes intriguing conversation and encourages a close proximity and makes me feel like we’re on a first date. Thank you for working your magic on the wait list at North and bringing us bok choy and crispy sweet potato goodness in such a timely manner (by North standards, that is). You gave us raw bar refill pondering and hipster gawking and secret smacky kisses. How did you know that’s exactly what we needed?
Thank you, last weekend, for bringing us back to the West Side for White Electric greens and Spring-tinted teas. Thank you for taking us to Armory Park to debate the superiority of pita bread versus its baked chip counterpart while watching a 10-year-old boy being pulled on a skateboard by his fat English bulldog. Thank you for ice buckets and afternoon naps, for family dinner, big brothers in bibs and little girls in glasses. Thank you, sweet weekend, for sending swans my way and for flaky french pastries on warm Monday mornings. Thank you for hand holding and optimism and 70 whole degrees. Thank you for the well-timed playlists and the blooming trees and thank you, dear weekend, for making me smile midweek.