As the soft and sweet aroma of freshly baked golden waffle cones drifts from the open doors of a gelateria, one things is for certain, it is sure to stop one right in her tracks and detour for a few moments; stop in to perhaps order a “gelato affogato” [gelato with espresso poured on top], and be on one’s way again . . .
A waifish figure and large, brown, doe-like eyes; a tiny, cinched in waist and sweet, elfin features; a willowy dancer’s body, slight but strong from years of ballet training—always graceful and ever ladylike—it is difficult to believe that this beautiful woman, both inside and out, would wait almost her entire life to find true love but—when she did find it, it was truly great . . .
. . . this morning, the sun shone brightly, an utterly perfect start to the weekend, and a perfect way to end the month and we're ready for whatever november brings, so long as there are cosy heather grey sweaters and burnt crimson, logs by the fire . . .
. . . and while we're on the topic of grasping every last beautiful moment of summer for as long as we can: worn wicker baskets and folds of languid lacy things, heart-shaped waffles and breezy morning dresses, peonies and starfish, and always, seaside dreams . . .
. . . every year at this time, always and irresistibly drawn to dusky neutrals and rich textures — exposed ceiling beams and washed floorboards, luxe velvet and stacks upon stacks of firewood, always perfectly paired, of course, with glittering chandeliers . . .
. . . nearly time again for transitions, and while the closets are still filled with white and light-as-air summer dresses and strappy sandals, and the heavy blankets are still tucked away, soon there will be soft sweaters and boyfriend blazers . . .