I’m a bit obsessed with my hair. I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. Partly because my hair is so very hard to control, always going its own wavy way, frequently frizzy, with crazy curlicues in places where it should go straight, and undulating whoop-dee-doos where it should lie flat. And partly …
Apparently Greta Garbo never actually said, “I want to be alone.” Except as a line in the movie Grand Hotel. But she was. At least alone in the way that society defines women who don’t marry as being “alone.” I’ve been thinking of the state of being alone, or unmarried, a good deal these days. …
On Her Own: Spinsters and Women Who Write about Them Read More »
I remember clearly when I first became aware of fashion. Not just clothes, I’ve always loved clothes. But fashion, as in what was in style and what was not. Grown-up fashion. It was late 1967, early 1968. I was eleven going on twelve, and in grade five. Our class was producing the monthly assembly for our school and we had planned to …
Okay… back to our spring road trip. Hubby and I enjoyed South Carolina. Charleston was lovely: beautiful historic homes, great beaches, fabulous restaurants. But along with the warm sunshine, there were lots of people, and traffic. After four days we were ready for something less busy, and more empty. And rugged. With more open space …
Ahhhh. That’s better. I sigh, sip my tea on the porch, watch the wind move the Spanish moss hanging from the live oaks. And breath. We’ve been in Charleston, South Carolina for four days. And it’s been wonderful. Warm, sunny, breezy, perfect spring weather. This is the view from the second floor, screened-porch at our B&B. …
This is what 5:30 AM looks like from my sun room window. I took this shot a couple of weeks ago when, uncharacteristically, I was awake that early. I am not an early morning person. Mid morning, I’m great. But now that I’m retired, I don’t see 6:00 in the morning much anymore. Unless I …
Whether it’s via the comments section, social media, or email, I’d love to keep in touch. Join me at any of the sites below to continue the conversation.
© 2022 High Heels in the Wilderness | Privacy Policy