First things first: I made a trip to the Nashville airport the other day to scoop up my lad Clif, home for the first time in 16 months. It’s his birthday today, so there’s lots to celebrate.
I felt like one of the characters in what is truly the best chewing gum ad ever. My lad! Home!
To everybody who’s seeing the people they love for the first time in ages, hooray!
Meanwhile . . .
We had a cold snap over the weekend—Nashville was downright clammy. In other words, LOPI WEATHER. It was just what I needed to get done with the final bits of Mary Jane Mucklestone’s Daytripper Cardigan from Field Guide No. 17: Lopi.
I did what I always do when making a cardigan: I saved the button-picking until I was completely finished. It’s my little reward, getting to think about buttons.
The thing is, I always get the same basic kind of button: shell buttons. They’re the buttons that just make sense to me.
I went online and found myself awash in shell buttons, adrift I tell you. I ordered up a dozen lustrous little discs, lovely and thin.
Too pale. But when I flipped them over, the akoya oyster shell on the back side of the mother of pearl was really beautiful, with no luster, no iridescence. An Icelandic sheep would be good friends with an akoya oyster, surely.
I like the idea of these humble bivalves getting a moment in the sun, or my button band, anyway.
A fine mate to my Daytripper’s palette of Léttlopi in Oatmeal, Dark Grey, Ash, Air Blue, Pink, and Crimson Red. Clif approved.
And when we took Daytripper out for a walk on a cool late spring day, Clif took some pix.
“You need a fit pic, Mom,” he said.
Only Clif, veteran of the fashion world, could make a mom in a cardigan look like a recent arrival from a distant planet.
Hubbo was there, too.
One of those little days that seemed awfully big.