Saturday, August 03, 2024
Thursday, April 27, 2023
When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd (W. Whitman)
When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd
By Walt Whitman
1819-1892
1
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd,
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.
2
O powerful western fallen star!
O shades of night--O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappear'd--O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless--O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul.
3
In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash'd palings,
Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle--and from this bush in the dooryard,
With delicate-color'd blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.
4
In the swamp in secluded recesses,
A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.
Solitary the thrush,
The hermit withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements,
Sings by himself a song.
Song of the bleeding throat,
Death's outlet song of life, (for well dear brother I know,
If thou wast not granted to sing thou wouldist surely die.)
5
Over the breast of the spring, the land, amid cities,
Amid lanes and through old woods, where lately the violets peep'd
from the ground, spotting the gray debris,
Amid the grass in the fields each side of the lanes, passing the
endless grass,
Passing the yellow-spear'd wheat, every grain from its shroud in the
dark-brown fields uprisen,
Passing the apple-tree blows of white and pink in the orchards,
Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave,
Night and day journeys a coffin.
6
Coffin that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop'd flags with the cities draped in black,
With the show of the States themselves as of crape-veil'd women standing,
With processions long and winding and the flambeaus of the night,
With the countless torches lit, with the silent sea of faces and the
unbared heads,
With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong
and solemn,
With all the mournful voices of the dirges pour'd around the coffin,
The dim-lit churches and the shuddering organs--where amid these
you journey,
With the tolling tolling bells' perpetual clang,
Here, coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac.
7
(Nor for you, for one alone,
Blossoms and branches green to coffins all I bring,
For fresh as the morning, thus would I chant a song for you O sane
and sacred death.
All over bouquets of roses,
O death, I cover you over with roses and early lilies,
But mostly and now the lilac that blooms the first,
Copious I break, I break the sprigs from the bushes,
With loaded arms I come, pouring for you,
For you and the coffins all of you O death.)
8
O western orb sailing the heaven,
Now I know what you must have meant as a month since I walk'd,
As I walk'd in silence the transparent shadowy night,
As I saw you had something to tell as you bent to me night after night,
As you droop'd from the sky low down as if to my side, (while the
other stars all look'd on,)
As we wander'd together the solemn night, (for something I know not
what kept me from sleep,)
As the night advanced, and I saw on the rim of the west how full you
were of woe,
As I stood on the rising ground in the breeze in the cool transparent night,
As I watch'd where you pass'd and was lost in the netherward black
of the night,
As my soul in its trouble dissatisfied sank, as where you sad orb,
Concluded, dropt in the night, and was gone.
9
Sing on there in the swamp,
O singer bashful and tender, I hear your notes, I hear your call,
I hear, I come presently, I understand you,
But a moment I linger, for the lustrous star has detain'd me,
The star my departing comrade holds and detains me.
10
O how shall I warble myself for the dead one there I loved?
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone?
And what shall my perfume be for the grave of him I love?
Sea-winds blown from east and west,
Blown from the Eastern sea and blown from the Western sea, till
there on the prairies meeting,
These and with these and the breath of my chant,
I'll perfume the grave of him I love.
11
O what shall I hang on the chamber walls?
And what shall the pictures be that I hang on the walls,
To adorn the burial-house of him I love?
Pictures of growing spring and farms and homes,
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking
sun, burning, expanding the air,
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves
of the trees prolific,
In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a
wind-dapple here and there,
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky,
and shadows,
And the city at hand with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life and the workshops, and the workmen
homeward returning.
12
Lo, body and soul--this land,
My own Manhattan with spires, and the sparkling and hurrying tides,
and the ships,
The varied and ample land, the South and the North in the light,
Ohio's shores and flashing Missouri,
And ever the far-spreading prairies cover'd with grass and corn.
Lo, the most excellent sun so calm and haughty,
The violet and purple morn with just-felt breezes,
The gentle soft-born measureless light,
The miracle spreading bathing all, the fulfill'd noon,
The coming eve delicious, the welcome night and the stars,
Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.
13
Sing on, sing on you gray-brown bird,
Sing from the swamps, the recesses, pour your chant from the bushes,
Limitless out of the dusk, out of the cedars and pines.
Sing on dearest brother, warble your reedy song,
Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.
O liquid and free and tender!
O wild and loose to my soul--O wondrous singer!
You only I hear--yet the star holds me, (but will soon depart,)
Yet the lilac with mastering odor holds me.
14
Now while I sat in the day and look'd forth,
In the close of the day with its light and the fields of spring, and
the farmers preparing their crops,
In the large unconscious scenery of my land with its lakes and forests,
In the heavenly aerial beauty, (after the perturb'd winds and the storms,)
Under the arching heavens of the afternoon swift passing, and the
voices of children and women,
The many-moving sea-tides, and I saw the ships how they sail'd,
And the summer approaching with richness, and the fields all busy
with labor,
And the infinite separate houses, how they all went on, each with
its meals and minutia of daily usages,
And the streets how their throbbings throbb'd, and the cities pent--
lo, then and there,
Falling upon them all and among them all, enveloping me with the rest,
Appear'd the cloud, appear'd the long black trail,
And I knew death, its thought, and the sacred knowledge of death.
Then with the knowledge of death as walking one side of me,
And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me,
And I in the middle as with companions, and as holding the hands of
companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night that talks not,
Down to the shores of the water, the path by the swamp in the dimness,
To the solemn shadowy cedars and ghostly pines so still.
And the singer so shy to the rest receiv'd me,
The gray-brown bird I know receiv'd us comrades three,
And he sang the carol of death, and a verse for him I love.
From deep secluded recesses,
From the fragrant cedars and the ghostly pines so still,
Came the carol of the bird.
And the charm of the carol rapt me,
As I held as if by their hands my comrades in the night,
And the voice of my spirit tallied the song of the bird.
Come lovely and soothing death,
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.
Prais'd be the fathomless universe,
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love--but praise! praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death.
Dark mother always gliding near with soft feet,
Have none chanted for thee a chant of fullest welcome?
Then I chant it for thee, I glorify thee above all,
I bring thee a song that when thou must indeed come, come unfalteringly.
Approach strong deliveress,
When it is so, when thou hast taken them I joyously sing the dead,
Lost in the loving floating ocean of thee,
Laved in the flood of thy bliss O death.
From me to thee glad serenades,
Dances for thee I propose saluting thee, adornments and feastings for thee,
And the sights of the open landscape and the high-spread shy are fitting,
And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night.
The night in silence under many a star,
The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave whose voice I know,
And the soul turning to thee O vast and well-veil'd death,
And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.
Over the tree-tops I float thee a song,
Over the rising and sinking waves, over the myriad fields and the
prairies wide,
Over the dense-pack'd cities all and the teeming wharves and ways,
I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee O death.
15
To the tally of my soul,
Loud and strong kept up the gray-brown bird,
With pure deliberate notes spreading filling the night.
Loud in the pines and cedars dim,
Clear in the freshness moist and the swamp-perfume,
And I with my comrades there in the night.
While my sight that was bound in my eyes unclosed,
As to long panoramas of visions.
And I saw askant the armies,
I saw as in noiseless dreams hundreds of battle-flags,
Borne through the smoke of the battles and pierc'd with missiles I saw them,
And carried hither and yon through the smoke, and torn and bloody,
And at last but a few shreds left on the staffs, (and all in silence,)
And the staffs all splinter'd and broken.
I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them,
And the white skeletons of young men, I saw them,
I saw the debris and debris of all the slain soldiers of the war,
But I saw they were not as was thought,
They themselves were fully at rest, they suffer'd not,
The living remain'd and suffer'd, the mother suffer'd,
And the wife and the child and the musing comrade suffer'd,
And the armies that remain'd suffer'd.
16
Passing the visions, passing the night,
Passing, unloosing the hold of my comrades' hands,
Passing the song of the hermit bird and the tallying song of my soul,
Victorious song, death's outlet song, yet varying ever-altering song,
As low and wailing, yet clear the notes, rising and falling,
flooding the night,
Sadly sinking and fainting, as warning and warning, and yet again
bursting with joy,
Covering the earth and filling the spread of the heaven,
As that powerful psalm in the night I heard from recesses,
Passing, I leave thee lilac with heart-shaped leaves,
I leave thee there in the door-yard, blooming, returning with spring.
I cease from my song for thee,
From my gaze on thee in the west, fronting the west, communing with thee,
O comrade lustrous with silver face in the night.
Yet each to keep and all, retrievements out of the night,
The song, the wondrous chant of the gray-brown bird,
And the tallying chant, the echo arous'd in my soul,
With the lustrous and drooping star with the countenance full of woe,
With the holders holding my hand nearing the call of the bird,
Comrades mine and I in the midst, and their memory ever to keep, for
the dead I loved so well,
For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands--and this for
his dear sake,
Lilac and star and bird twined with the chant of my soul,
There in the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim.
By Walt Whitman
1819-1892
1
When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd,
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourn'd, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.
2
O powerful western fallen star!
O shades of night--O moody, tearful night!
O great star disappear'd--O the black murk that hides the star!
O cruel hands that hold me powerless--O helpless soul of me!
O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul.
3
In the dooryard fronting an old farm-house near the white-wash'd palings,
Stands the lilac-bush tall-growing with heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
With many a pointed blossom rising delicate, with the perfume strong I love,
With every leaf a miracle--and from this bush in the dooryard,
With delicate-color'd blossoms and heart-shaped leaves of rich green,
A sprig with its flower I break.
4
In the swamp in secluded recesses,
A shy and hidden bird is warbling a song.
Solitary the thrush,
The hermit withdrawn to himself, avoiding the settlements,
Sings by himself a song.
Song of the bleeding throat,
Death's outlet song of life, (for well dear brother I know,
If thou wast not granted to sing thou wouldist surely die.)
5
Over the breast of the spring, the land, amid cities,
Amid lanes and through old woods, where lately the violets peep'd
from the ground, spotting the gray debris,
Amid the grass in the fields each side of the lanes, passing the
endless grass,
Passing the yellow-spear'd wheat, every grain from its shroud in the
dark-brown fields uprisen,
Passing the apple-tree blows of white and pink in the orchards,
Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave,
Night and day journeys a coffin.
6
Coffin that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop'd flags with the cities draped in black,
With the show of the States themselves as of crape-veil'd women standing,
With processions long and winding and the flambeaus of the night,
With the countless torches lit, with the silent sea of faces and the
unbared heads,
With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong
and solemn,
With all the mournful voices of the dirges pour'd around the coffin,
The dim-lit churches and the shuddering organs--where amid these
you journey,
With the tolling tolling bells' perpetual clang,
Here, coffin that slowly passes,
I give you my sprig of lilac.
7
(Nor for you, for one alone,
Blossoms and branches green to coffins all I bring,
For fresh as the morning, thus would I chant a song for you O sane
and sacred death.
All over bouquets of roses,
O death, I cover you over with roses and early lilies,
But mostly and now the lilac that blooms the first,
Copious I break, I break the sprigs from the bushes,
With loaded arms I come, pouring for you,
For you and the coffins all of you O death.)
8
O western orb sailing the heaven,
Now I know what you must have meant as a month since I walk'd,
As I walk'd in silence the transparent shadowy night,
As I saw you had something to tell as you bent to me night after night,
As you droop'd from the sky low down as if to my side, (while the
other stars all look'd on,)
As we wander'd together the solemn night, (for something I know not
what kept me from sleep,)
As the night advanced, and I saw on the rim of the west how full you
were of woe,
As I stood on the rising ground in the breeze in the cool transparent night,
As I watch'd where you pass'd and was lost in the netherward black
of the night,
As my soul in its trouble dissatisfied sank, as where you sad orb,
Concluded, dropt in the night, and was gone.
9
Sing on there in the swamp,
O singer bashful and tender, I hear your notes, I hear your call,
I hear, I come presently, I understand you,
But a moment I linger, for the lustrous star has detain'd me,
The star my departing comrade holds and detains me.
10
O how shall I warble myself for the dead one there I loved?
And how shall I deck my song for the large sweet soul that has gone?
And what shall my perfume be for the grave of him I love?
Sea-winds blown from east and west,
Blown from the Eastern sea and blown from the Western sea, till
there on the prairies meeting,
These and with these and the breath of my chant,
I'll perfume the grave of him I love.
11
O what shall I hang on the chamber walls?
And what shall the pictures be that I hang on the walls,
To adorn the burial-house of him I love?
Pictures of growing spring and farms and homes,
With the Fourth-month eve at sundown, and the gray smoke lucid and bright,
With floods of the yellow gold of the gorgeous, indolent, sinking
sun, burning, expanding the air,
With the fresh sweet herbage under foot, and the pale green leaves
of the trees prolific,
In the distance the flowing glaze, the breast of the river, with a
wind-dapple here and there,
With ranging hills on the banks, with many a line against the sky,
and shadows,
And the city at hand with dwellings so dense, and stacks of chimneys,
And all the scenes of life and the workshops, and the workmen
homeward returning.
12
Lo, body and soul--this land,
My own Manhattan with spires, and the sparkling and hurrying tides,
and the ships,
The varied and ample land, the South and the North in the light,
Ohio's shores and flashing Missouri,
And ever the far-spreading prairies cover'd with grass and corn.
Lo, the most excellent sun so calm and haughty,
The violet and purple morn with just-felt breezes,
The gentle soft-born measureless light,
The miracle spreading bathing all, the fulfill'd noon,
The coming eve delicious, the welcome night and the stars,
Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.
13
Sing on, sing on you gray-brown bird,
Sing from the swamps, the recesses, pour your chant from the bushes,
Limitless out of the dusk, out of the cedars and pines.
Sing on dearest brother, warble your reedy song,
Loud human song, with voice of uttermost woe.
O liquid and free and tender!
O wild and loose to my soul--O wondrous singer!
You only I hear--yet the star holds me, (but will soon depart,)
Yet the lilac with mastering odor holds me.
14
Now while I sat in the day and look'd forth,
In the close of the day with its light and the fields of spring, and
the farmers preparing their crops,
In the large unconscious scenery of my land with its lakes and forests,
In the heavenly aerial beauty, (after the perturb'd winds and the storms,)
Under the arching heavens of the afternoon swift passing, and the
voices of children and women,
The many-moving sea-tides, and I saw the ships how they sail'd,
And the summer approaching with richness, and the fields all busy
with labor,
And the infinite separate houses, how they all went on, each with
its meals and minutia of daily usages,
And the streets how their throbbings throbb'd, and the cities pent--
lo, then and there,
Falling upon them all and among them all, enveloping me with the rest,
Appear'd the cloud, appear'd the long black trail,
And I knew death, its thought, and the sacred knowledge of death.
Then with the knowledge of death as walking one side of me,
And the thought of death close-walking the other side of me,
And I in the middle as with companions, and as holding the hands of
companions,
I fled forth to the hiding receiving night that talks not,
Down to the shores of the water, the path by the swamp in the dimness,
To the solemn shadowy cedars and ghostly pines so still.
And the singer so shy to the rest receiv'd me,
The gray-brown bird I know receiv'd us comrades three,
And he sang the carol of death, and a verse for him I love.
From deep secluded recesses,
From the fragrant cedars and the ghostly pines so still,
Came the carol of the bird.
And the charm of the carol rapt me,
As I held as if by their hands my comrades in the night,
And the voice of my spirit tallied the song of the bird.
Come lovely and soothing death,
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.
Prais'd be the fathomless universe,
For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
And for love, sweet love--but praise! praise! praise!
For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death.
Dark mother always gliding near with soft feet,
Have none chanted for thee a chant of fullest welcome?
Then I chant it for thee, I glorify thee above all,
I bring thee a song that when thou must indeed come, come unfalteringly.
Approach strong deliveress,
When it is so, when thou hast taken them I joyously sing the dead,
Lost in the loving floating ocean of thee,
Laved in the flood of thy bliss O death.
From me to thee glad serenades,
Dances for thee I propose saluting thee, adornments and feastings for thee,
And the sights of the open landscape and the high-spread shy are fitting,
And life and the fields, and the huge and thoughtful night.
The night in silence under many a star,
The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave whose voice I know,
And the soul turning to thee O vast and well-veil'd death,
And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.
Over the tree-tops I float thee a song,
Over the rising and sinking waves, over the myriad fields and the
prairies wide,
Over the dense-pack'd cities all and the teeming wharves and ways,
I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee O death.
15
To the tally of my soul,
Loud and strong kept up the gray-brown bird,
With pure deliberate notes spreading filling the night.
Loud in the pines and cedars dim,
Clear in the freshness moist and the swamp-perfume,
And I with my comrades there in the night.
While my sight that was bound in my eyes unclosed,
As to long panoramas of visions.
And I saw askant the armies,
I saw as in noiseless dreams hundreds of battle-flags,
Borne through the smoke of the battles and pierc'd with missiles I saw them,
And carried hither and yon through the smoke, and torn and bloody,
And at last but a few shreds left on the staffs, (and all in silence,)
And the staffs all splinter'd and broken.
I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them,
And the white skeletons of young men, I saw them,
I saw the debris and debris of all the slain soldiers of the war,
But I saw they were not as was thought,
They themselves were fully at rest, they suffer'd not,
The living remain'd and suffer'd, the mother suffer'd,
And the wife and the child and the musing comrade suffer'd,
And the armies that remain'd suffer'd.
16
Passing the visions, passing the night,
Passing, unloosing the hold of my comrades' hands,
Passing the song of the hermit bird and the tallying song of my soul,
Victorious song, death's outlet song, yet varying ever-altering song,
As low and wailing, yet clear the notes, rising and falling,
flooding the night,
Sadly sinking and fainting, as warning and warning, and yet again
bursting with joy,
Covering the earth and filling the spread of the heaven,
As that powerful psalm in the night I heard from recesses,
Passing, I leave thee lilac with heart-shaped leaves,
I leave thee there in the door-yard, blooming, returning with spring.
I cease from my song for thee,
From my gaze on thee in the west, fronting the west, communing with thee,
O comrade lustrous with silver face in the night.
Yet each to keep and all, retrievements out of the night,
The song, the wondrous chant of the gray-brown bird,
And the tallying chant, the echo arous'd in my soul,
With the lustrous and drooping star with the countenance full of woe,
With the holders holding my hand nearing the call of the bird,
Comrades mine and I in the midst, and their memory ever to keep, for
the dead I loved so well,
For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands--and this for
his dear sake,
Lilac and star and bird twined with the chant of my soul,
There in the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim.
DayPoems Poem No. 2059<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/2059.html">When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd by Walt Whitman</a>
The Brave Sparrow: The Story of Mars and the Birdbath
The Brave Sparrow: The Story of Mars and the Birdbath
Once upon a time, there was a small sparrow named Mars. He lived in a grassy meadow, close to a beautiful, lush forest full of vibrant birds and animals. Every day, Mars would fly around looking for food or just to explore. One day, while soaring through the sky, he spotted something—a bright, reflective object at the edge of the forest. Flying down, he discovered that it was actually a birdbath filled with sparkling, clean water.
Mars was overjoyed because he had never seen such a thing before. He flapped his wings excitedly and hopped onto the edge of the bath. To his surprise, the water was very refreshing and he stayed there quenching his thirst until he was completely refreshed.
He enjoyed the taste of the fresh water and the peace and quiet near the birdbath. So, he decided to make it his home. From that day onwards, no matter what kind of weather, Mars would come to the birdbath to drink and dip his wings in the cool, clear water every day.
He also enjoyed that other birds would often come to the birdbath to join him, so he made a lot of friends. They'd fly around together in the meadow, gathering seed and sharing stories about the day’s adventures.
For many months, Mars enjoyed living near the birdbath, but one day he noticed some strange movement in the grass near the forest edge. Upon closer inspection, he found that it was actually a hawk, trying to prey on one of the other birds. Mars was so scared and wanted to help, but he was alone.
So, he thought of a plan. He called out loudly to the other birds, who joined him in a spectacular flurry of feathers. The hawk was so intimidated by the sudden appearance of the birds and the sound of their chirping, that it quickly flew away.
From that day on, Mars was known as the brave sparrow who protected his homeland. He was always remembered for his courage and loyalty to the other birds.
The entire forest was so proud of Mars, and to this day, the birdbath is still a beloved monument in the meadow, a reminder of the brave sparrow, Mars.
Tuesday, December 03, 2019
Quick WW Recipe Sources
Quick WW Recipe Sources
Google “Weight Watchers” or “WW” to find more inspiration!
Easy WW Recipes
https://simple-nourished-living.com/category/food-health/weight-watchers-recipes-five-ingredients/https://simple-nourished-living.com/category/food-health/weight-watchers-recipes-five-ingredients/
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Video Job Interview Etiquette
Video job interviews are just as relevant as an in-person interview, but can be more challenging. Preparing and rehearsing for video job interviews is the key to success.
You will need the proper technologies tested and ready, a quiet, well-lit place where you can focus your thoughts, the job description and resume within eyesight, and your interview wardrobe chosen and ready.
Dress for Success: Interview clothing must be professional, not business casual or casual, even though you may be interviewing at home. First impressions occur within a matter of seconds and are lasting. Make sure your clothing is clean and pressed, appropriate for a boardroom presentation (such as a suit and tie, or two-piece skirt suit with blouse), and seasonal. Make sure whatever you wear doesn’t pinch or pull, because you will need to be composed and comfortable.
Grooming: Make sure you are showered, teeth brushed, your hair is fixed in a professional presentation, and your nails clean and manicured. If you wear glasses, make sure they are free of dust and smudges.
Location: The room you choose should be quiet, where you can focus without interruptions. You will need to shut off your cell phone, unplug your landline, and turn off background noises such as TV or radio. If you are using Skype, set your profile to “Busy” or “Away” (and for Webex, “In a meeting”) in order to stop interruptions. Look behind and around where you will be facing the camera, and remove all objects that would not be seen in a meeting or conference room setting. For example, plants are fine, but kids and pets should be kept out of the area. Sit or stand at a distance where your head and shoulders are visible to the other person. Lighting should show your face, not the back of your head, so arrange advantageous lighting. You might want to keep the resume and job description within immediate eyesight, for quick reference.
On-Camera Etiquette: Your job is to present your skills, charm and personality on video, and to engage the other person. Remember all the important interview tactics such as maintaining near-constant eye contact and explaining past experience thoroughly, and with strong examples. Sit forward, keeping your head and shoulders in camera view, and do not lean back. Look at the camera lens, not the screen, in order to engage the other person’s eye contact. Keep feet evenly on the ground and maintain balance (don’t shift your weight too often). Try not to interrupt the other person while they are speaking; sometimes there are slight delays in internet speed, even with the fastest communication technologies. Try to talk in paragraphs, not pages, because your voice can muffle or stretch through technology channels. Act both naturally and professionally, paying attention to what the other person is saying. At the end of the interview, be sure to thank the other person for his or her time.
How to check yourself: Use the video software image of yourself, reduce its size, and then position it on your screen so that it is directly under the camera lens. Take a quick peek at it now and then to be sure you are presenting yourself in the best way possible. (Your occasional glances at the tiny image near the camera lens will not break your eye contact or appear distracting to the other person.)
Testing: Perform a "mini-test run" to work out kinks. Ideally, practice talking to someone else with a computer webcam, so you can see how you project yourself. Be sure to test for sound quality, and if you need to replace computer microphone and/or speakers with a headset, make sure you have time to buy and install one prior to your interview.
Additional Reading:
Video: How to Handle a Job Interiew over Skype, The Wall Street Journal, 2010.
Preparing for a Virtual Job Interview, by “Interview Success Formula.”
Ace Your Virtual Interview Quick Tipsheet, Indiana University Career Development Office.
Hello? Hello!? Preparing for Phone and Skype/Facetime Interviews, University of Pennsylvania, Jamie Grant, 2013.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Do Not Buy from Gevalia.com! EVER!
DON'T buy coffee from Gevalia - They sent a debt collector after I paid $21.43 twice & sent proof of one of the cancelled checks. They credited someone else's acct, would not own the mistake for six months, finally did own the mistake, and then told ME to cancel the collection notices coming at me from their agency. It took almost a year for me to throw my hands up over the $21.43 and call an attorney to stop all the harassment coming from Gevalia and their debt collector. I paid it, I have the cancelled check, but Gevalia credited someone else, and then refused to stop harassing me. I've never encountered such terrible and stupid customer service IN MY LIFE.
I paid this bill in October 2013, and again in March 2014. On the March cancelled check I noticed someone crossed out my account number and inked in a totally different one. I sent a copy of that check in every single correspondance with Gevalia, but only encountered sheer stupidity in return. North Shore is their collection agency.
This is email number 9 from them on this same subject. I was a great and very constant customer with Gevalia since 2004. Now, I want to ruin them in return for driving up my blood pressure to the point where I am on three separate BP medications:
Hi XXXXX,
Thank you for taking the time to contact us.
Our records show your last payment was made on 06/06/14. The last paid amount is : $21.43. At this time, we show your outstanding balance is now with Northshore. We ask that you please contact Northshore for further assistance.
We apologize for the inconvenience and hope this information has been helpful. Thanks again for reaching out.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Do not quit Lexapro cold turkey
My insurance company, US Healthcare, suddenly decided to take Lexapro off its formulary. It did this the same month I lost my job. I had to either pay $300 for my prescription (which I could not do), or quit cold turkey. So I quit cold turkey.
So July 1 I quit taking it. It's now October 20 and I'm back on it for a week. I finally stopped crying yesterday after three months of uncontrollable sobbing.
I think back on the darkness of my journey back to Lexapro.... The suicidal thoughts 24/7, the hot flashes, the feelings of being insane. Unable to communicate and feeling cut off from the world. Talking to myself out loud. Feeling dizzy, and uncoordinated. Shivering from cold when in a room temperature environment. Waking up in the middle of the night feeling desperate and ready to kill myself quietly and instantly and let the chips fall where they may.
You don't phone a hotline when you're serious about suicide. You think about what to do with your pet. I had decided to bring Zacki to the vet and leave her there, come home, and kill myself. I had it all worked out. But between the hot and cold flashes, dizzy/nauseated feelings, and space-brain, I kept forgetting where I was and what I was doing. So I'd sit down again, and immerse in Second Life, or try to speak coherently to my friend Debbie, who has now become used to my going silent for weeks at a time. Depression sucks.
I have a new job, and refilled my prescription, and took my first pill.... and the hot flashes which has been occurring every 45 minutes for 6 minutes duration, STOPPED. On the second dose, my brain cleared. It was like somebody removed a heavy foggy shroud from my mind. The chills stopped, and I don't have to sit at my desk at work with a blanket over me, shivering. Some how, some way, maybe it was the third dose -- I stopped thinking about suicide - and that is like a shrill radio in the background has been turned off.
I honestly think, that Lexapro is more important right now, than my mortgage. They can foreclose on the house, I don't care, as long as I don't have to think about killing myself any more. It was a horror.
Never quit Lexapro cold turkey.
For me, Never quit Lexapro, period. I'm done with the withdrawal crap. I'm glad to have the drug back in my life. Apparently, I need it. So be it.
United Heathcare, on the other hand, nearly killed me. I blame them 100% for my misery.
So July 1 I quit taking it. It's now October 20 and I'm back on it for a week. I finally stopped crying yesterday after three months of uncontrollable sobbing.
I think back on the darkness of my journey back to Lexapro.... The suicidal thoughts 24/7, the hot flashes, the feelings of being insane. Unable to communicate and feeling cut off from the world. Talking to myself out loud. Feeling dizzy, and uncoordinated. Shivering from cold when in a room temperature environment. Waking up in the middle of the night feeling desperate and ready to kill myself quietly and instantly and let the chips fall where they may.
You don't phone a hotline when you're serious about suicide. You think about what to do with your pet. I had decided to bring Zacki to the vet and leave her there, come home, and kill myself. I had it all worked out. But between the hot and cold flashes, dizzy/nauseated feelings, and space-brain, I kept forgetting where I was and what I was doing. So I'd sit down again, and immerse in Second Life, or try to speak coherently to my friend Debbie, who has now become used to my going silent for weeks at a time. Depression sucks.
I have a new job, and refilled my prescription, and took my first pill.... and the hot flashes which has been occurring every 45 minutes for 6 minutes duration, STOPPED. On the second dose, my brain cleared. It was like somebody removed a heavy foggy shroud from my mind. The chills stopped, and I don't have to sit at my desk at work with a blanket over me, shivering. Some how, some way, maybe it was the third dose -- I stopped thinking about suicide - and that is like a shrill radio in the background has been turned off.
I honestly think, that Lexapro is more important right now, than my mortgage. They can foreclose on the house, I don't care, as long as I don't have to think about killing myself any more. It was a horror.
Never quit Lexapro cold turkey.
For me, Never quit Lexapro, period. I'm done with the withdrawal crap. I'm glad to have the drug back in my life. Apparently, I need it. So be it.
United Heathcare, on the other hand, nearly killed me. I blame them 100% for my misery.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Commercial Mafia, or Earrings Incorporated
The TV show Cashmere Mafia was interesting to me, for two episodes. Then I examined my own reactions to it and, laughing at my own folly, quit watching entirely. The show features a team of pretty leading ladies, with interesting clothing and makeup, and the occasional interesting man, escort or lesbian by their side.
It goes like this: Five minutes of earrings and sass, followed by five minutes of commercials about skin solutions, hair dyes, diets, and makeovers. Then, five minutes of earrings and sass, followed by five minutes of commercials about skin solutions, hair dyes, diets, and makeovers.
Cashmere Mafia is the ultimate guilt pack. You know you are being bombarded with magazine-like "You need to be skinny and rich" advertising, you know you've forgotten the plot again after the fourth minute of contiguous advertisements, and yet, you hang on for another peek at -- yes -- the earrings.
I am not gong to comment on the earrings except to say they are creative and glittery, catching a woman's envious eye. I searched the net to see if anyone actually manufactured those earrings and that's when I stopped myself short of checking on the color of Lucy Liu's lipstick or shoes. Really, what a dolt I can be.
Not that we shouldn't pay attention to all advertising! If a gray hair comes along, I am an educated consumer, and know exactly which L'Oreal Excellence *100% coverage!* box I need to buy in order to be more like my role models, those Fabulous models of earrings, those purveyors of glam.
I think if there had been just a tad fewer commercials, I might have actually remembered the plot from time to time. But then -- maybe I'm all wrong about this, and we are SUPPOSED to remember the commercials, and not the plot? God what a thought - maybe I'm getting alzheimer's... what's the cure-all commercial for that again? I forget?
It goes like this: Five minutes of earrings and sass, followed by five minutes of commercials about skin solutions, hair dyes, diets, and makeovers. Then, five minutes of earrings and sass, followed by five minutes of commercials about skin solutions, hair dyes, diets, and makeovers.
Cashmere Mafia is the ultimate guilt pack. You know you are being bombarded with magazine-like "You need to be skinny and rich" advertising, you know you've forgotten the plot again after the fourth minute of contiguous advertisements, and yet, you hang on for another peek at -- yes -- the earrings.
I am not gong to comment on the earrings except to say they are creative and glittery, catching a woman's envious eye. I searched the net to see if anyone actually manufactured those earrings and that's when I stopped myself short of checking on the color of Lucy Liu's lipstick or shoes. Really, what a dolt I can be.
Not that we shouldn't pay attention to all advertising! If a gray hair comes along, I am an educated consumer, and know exactly which L'Oreal Excellence *100% coverage!* box I need to buy in order to be more like my role models, those Fabulous models of earrings, those purveyors of glam.
I think if there had been just a tad fewer commercials, I might have actually remembered the plot from time to time. But then -- maybe I'm all wrong about this, and we are SUPPOSED to remember the commercials, and not the plot? God what a thought - maybe I'm getting alzheimer's... what's the cure-all commercial for that again? I forget?
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Perfumes I'm wearing this summer
It's so hard to choose a summer perfume! There are the soft vanillas, the heady florals, the comforting ambers... and the refreshing greens. I've run amok. Here is what I'm wearing and I have yet to figure out why:
Bois d'Iris (Different Company)
Heroine (Strange Invisible Perfumes)
Chanel no. 19 (Chanel)
Luctor et Emergo (People of the Labyrinths)
Silver Crystal Amouage (Amouage)
Wild Thing (Rich Hippie)
Rose (Comme de Garcons)
What? you say - where's the very Italian Carthusia Mediterraneo, the refreshing Vanille Orange, the sunny-dry Gobin-Daudes!! I've lost my mind. Next thing you know I'll be wearing something that smells like cake. White cake with pink icing. LOL Just shoot me now.
Bois d'Iris (Different Company)
Heroine (Strange Invisible Perfumes)
Chanel no. 19 (Chanel)
Luctor et Emergo (People of the Labyrinths)
Silver Crystal Amouage (Amouage)
Wild Thing (Rich Hippie)
Rose (Comme de Garcons)
What? you say - where's the very Italian Carthusia Mediterraneo, the refreshing Vanille Orange, the sunny-dry Gobin-Daudes!! I've lost my mind. Next thing you know I'll be wearing something that smells like cake. White cake with pink icing. LOL Just shoot me now.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
To our perfumista friends who know Sleepycats
Sleepycats is in the hospital having a stem cell transplant (bone marrow transplant) right this minute. She is having the heavy blasts of chemo to prep her blood, and tomorrow morning at 9:30am Eastern time she will receive her stem cells. This treatment for her multiple myeloma is very difficult and sickening, and she's having a hard time of it. She spent all last night throwing up from her first blast of chemo. Her sickness will worsen until from next Sunday through next Friday we have been told will be an absolute horror. Then... gradual lessening, to tolerable conditions. Hopefully these stem cells will find their way into her bone marrow and make a home there, and produce good cancer-free bone-marrow producing blood for her in a short time. This is not a trivial process! There is a 10% fatality risk.
I am asking you to take a minute and send blessings and positive thoughts to Sleepycats in a hospital in Philadelphia. She needs your love.
Thanks!! Much love, L
I am asking you to take a minute and send blessings and positive thoughts to Sleepycats in a hospital in Philadelphia. She needs your love.
Thanks!! Much love, L
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
100 degrees
It's 100 degrees and going up. Most perfumes are making me a little ill -- except:
PDN Vanille Tonka (soft vanilla incense)
Carthusia - Mediterraneo (light soft lemony iced tea with a hint of balsamic rice)
PDN Vanille Tonka (soft vanilla incense)
Carthusia - Mediterraneo (light soft lemony iced tea with a hint of balsamic rice)
Friday, July 21, 2006
Isabey Day!!
It was coming. I kept thinking about Isabey Gardenia for over a week and then, this morning, I sprayed with abandon!! OMG. Lush creamy gardenia, tropical and luminous, sultry and sweet and animalic, so close to me all day long. The final drydown is the most heavenly refreshing gardenia. This perfume is addicting. It's soooo hard to find now, that I tend to hoard it :-( But oh my, what a killer to wear on a hot day in July. I am soooo in love with Isabey.
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Dorissima Goldmund
http://www.luckyscent.com/shop/detail.asp?itemid=26600§ion=1
Why is this perfume so perfect on a day when light kindling self-ignites? Because it's a luxurious skin scent, that grows more and more seductive as it plays off my body heat. I walk in a veil of iris root, rose, carnations, sandalwood, musks, balsam, and vanillas. The overall impression is sandalwood and balsam, the rest is fringe, until past drydown when it's like slightly incensy vanillas. This perfume could be relaxing, but probably for some very calm person LOL, not a hot fiery one like me. This one stokes me up and centers me, which is right - for me.
Why is this perfume so perfect on a day when light kindling self-ignites? Because it's a luxurious skin scent, that grows more and more seductive as it plays off my body heat. I walk in a veil of iris root, rose, carnations, sandalwood, musks, balsam, and vanillas. The overall impression is sandalwood and balsam, the rest is fringe, until past drydown when it's like slightly incensy vanillas. This perfume could be relaxing, but probably for some very calm person LOL, not a hot fiery one like me. This one stokes me up and centers me, which is right - for me.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Summer Perfumes
Outdoor temperatures yesterday reached 100 degrees, and today it's in the 90's. I'm working in an office environment but the air conditioner is always shut off at 5pm and everyone works until at least 6. Sometimes during the day the a/c seems to be off and the fans on, and everyone just sort of melts into their chairs, passion and energy replaced by grumpiness, which is a shame...... because they're losing consciousness.....
So I've been playing with my perfumes. Do I wear Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Alla Fresca, and stay green and fresh all day? Or how about something flowery and refreshing, like Creed's La Fleur de The Rose Bulgarie, a staple that stays in my purse. I tried Isabey Gardenia, a very heady gardenia that is so smooth and creamy it turms my slight sweat into pearls of greenhouse incense. What to wear in the dog days of summer?
In the '80's I would have worn Angel had it been in production LOL. Sometimes I still look at it, and sniff the bottle, and long for it. But I want to keep my co-workers on my bright side so I won't do it hahahaha. A soft gourmand from Bed Bath and Beyond might be nice, and I have often considered wearing just the whipped buttercream frost body cream - but I always stop short, thinking of the mosquito frenzy that would ensue.
Chanel No 5 extreme is stunning, as you probably already know. I think this is a perfume that can take the sun blasting heat, and enclosed airless office, and still remain fresh and good. I've never irritated anyone by wearing it, and in fact it's always awarded compliments. But to get up in the morning when it's 80 degrees and muggy, and think of Chanel - it's hard. Cringe. As beautiful as it is, it's sweet and sweet doesn't always appeal to me in the miserable heat.
I don't have to tell you that for me, the churchy perfumes are out in this weather. So are the sticky buns cinnamon pumpkin parfait sugar wafer diabetic death ones. Uber sweet will make me queasy.
So what do I wear? Those of you who know me already know the answer: POTL. I wear People of the Labyrinths Luctor et Emergo body cream and/or parfum. It's sweet grasses, hay, marzipan, and marachino cherries, in a lovely drydown that is incensy and bright/summery. This is my *everything* perfume.
I also find myself reaching for Amouage Silver Cristal. This perfume is no longer in commerce so I won't go into detail, but it does have some similarities with Chanel 19. Silver Cristal is green and desert dry, with undertones of moroccan roses and sandalwood. Men love it and for me, it goes everywhere.
I wore San (Ruby, a limited edition) the other day and it was pretty good! A goth parfum, in my opinion, it's rose based with notes that are dressy and gothic. It was perfect for a summer evening out.
What are your *extremely hot* summar perfumes - and why?
So I've been playing with my perfumes. Do I wear Guerlain Aqua Allegoria Alla Fresca, and stay green and fresh all day? Or how about something flowery and refreshing, like Creed's La Fleur de The Rose Bulgarie, a staple that stays in my purse. I tried Isabey Gardenia, a very heady gardenia that is so smooth and creamy it turms my slight sweat into pearls of greenhouse incense. What to wear in the dog days of summer?
In the '80's I would have worn Angel had it been in production LOL. Sometimes I still look at it, and sniff the bottle, and long for it. But I want to keep my co-workers on my bright side so I won't do it hahahaha. A soft gourmand from Bed Bath and Beyond might be nice, and I have often considered wearing just the whipped buttercream frost body cream - but I always stop short, thinking of the mosquito frenzy that would ensue.
Chanel No 5 extreme is stunning, as you probably already know. I think this is a perfume that can take the sun blasting heat, and enclosed airless office, and still remain fresh and good. I've never irritated anyone by wearing it, and in fact it's always awarded compliments. But to get up in the morning when it's 80 degrees and muggy, and think of Chanel - it's hard. Cringe. As beautiful as it is, it's sweet and sweet doesn't always appeal to me in the miserable heat.
I don't have to tell you that for me, the churchy perfumes are out in this weather. So are the sticky buns cinnamon pumpkin parfait sugar wafer diabetic death ones. Uber sweet will make me queasy.
So what do I wear? Those of you who know me already know the answer: POTL. I wear People of the Labyrinths Luctor et Emergo body cream and/or parfum. It's sweet grasses, hay, marzipan, and marachino cherries, in a lovely drydown that is incensy and bright/summery. This is my *everything* perfume.
I also find myself reaching for Amouage Silver Cristal. This perfume is no longer in commerce so I won't go into detail, but it does have some similarities with Chanel 19. Silver Cristal is green and desert dry, with undertones of moroccan roses and sandalwood. Men love it and for me, it goes everywhere.
I wore San (Ruby, a limited edition) the other day and it was pretty good! A goth parfum, in my opinion, it's rose based with notes that are dressy and gothic. It was perfect for a summer evening out.
What are your *extremely hot* summar perfumes - and why?
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Pro-JUTE-what?
How do you pronounce proscuitto? I've heard pro-JUTE in the movies so many times, that when I told the counterman at the Murphy's Supermarket deli to give me a half pound of pro-JUTE, he blinked for a second, then asked, "thin sliced?"
So I called my aunt, a first-generation American who speaks perfect Italian, and I said "Aunt V I had the most delicious dinner last night, by rolling thinly sliced pro-JUTE around a small dollop of sour cream, with fresh chives on top. She said, "What?" (She almost always says "What?" because she's been experimenting with hearing aids lately and sometimes forgets to put them back into her ears.) I said, "I had the most..." She said, "No, you mean pro-JUTE-oh!" Ah, thank you I said to her, the ultimate expert on not only Italian pronunciation, but also food: she minored in cooking at Smith, and delights (as I do, it's a genetic thing) in our incredibly useful five - or six - senses.
Pro-JUTE-oh, it turns out, is a diabetic's nightmare, so I only ate a couple of slices. The curing process must include sugar because it really jolts the glucose to the roof. But - like an annual piece of birthday cake - you gotta live, gotta taste life, even if just a little bit less than normal non-diabetics.
"Fresh chives?" Yes - incredibly, here in South Jersey, and with this mild winter, I still have a few chives. I've been sprinkling them on my daily poached egg breakfast. But this morning, with 15 inches of snow on the ground, I'm sure the last of the fresh chives are doomed. Oh well, spring is right around the corner (sort of).
I also bought scallops yesterday, and will wrap them in bacon, skewer with wooden toothpicks, and broil them for a few minutes later this afternoon. They go absolutely beautifully with spinach simmered in olive oil and fresh chopped garlic, and a good chardonnay. The bacon is complimentary to the spinach and garlic, and the chardonnay loves the delicate scallops. Once again, bacon having been cured with some sugar, a diabetic must be very careful to only eat a slice or two. But that is quite enough to go round several scallops, so a little goes a long way.
I am wearing Eadward Indulge perfume today, because it's so perfect on a snowy wintry day. It smells like spices and vanilla and orange marmalade and gingerbread. And the sweet perfection of Indulge's homey, warming sillage, won't have my blood sugar roaring like the fire in my coal stove.
So I called my aunt, a first-generation American who speaks perfect Italian, and I said "Aunt V I had the most delicious dinner last night, by rolling thinly sliced pro-JUTE around a small dollop of sour cream, with fresh chives on top. She said, "What?" (She almost always says "What?" because she's been experimenting with hearing aids lately and sometimes forgets to put them back into her ears.) I said, "I had the most..." She said, "No, you mean pro-JUTE-oh!" Ah, thank you I said to her, the ultimate expert on not only Italian pronunciation, but also food: she minored in cooking at Smith, and delights (as I do, it's a genetic thing) in our incredibly useful five - or six - senses.
Pro-JUTE-oh, it turns out, is a diabetic's nightmare, so I only ate a couple of slices. The curing process must include sugar because it really jolts the glucose to the roof. But - like an annual piece of birthday cake - you gotta live, gotta taste life, even if just a little bit less than normal non-diabetics.
"Fresh chives?" Yes - incredibly, here in South Jersey, and with this mild winter, I still have a few chives. I've been sprinkling them on my daily poached egg breakfast. But this morning, with 15 inches of snow on the ground, I'm sure the last of the fresh chives are doomed. Oh well, spring is right around the corner (sort of).
I also bought scallops yesterday, and will wrap them in bacon, skewer with wooden toothpicks, and broil them for a few minutes later this afternoon. They go absolutely beautifully with spinach simmered in olive oil and fresh chopped garlic, and a good chardonnay. The bacon is complimentary to the spinach and garlic, and the chardonnay loves the delicate scallops. Once again, bacon having been cured with some sugar, a diabetic must be very careful to only eat a slice or two. But that is quite enough to go round several scallops, so a little goes a long way.
I am wearing Eadward Indulge perfume today, because it's so perfect on a snowy wintry day. It smells like spices and vanilla and orange marmalade and gingerbread. And the sweet perfection of Indulge's homey, warming sillage, won't have my blood sugar roaring like the fire in my coal stove.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Whole Wheat Pasta in Vodka Sauce and Kidney Beans (gag?)
Tonight's dinner: Whole Wheat Pasta with Kidney Beans in Vodka Sauce.
Are you a diabetic too?
My blood sugar whch has traditionally hovered around 280 to 425 is resting nicely at 121 after a lunch of sardines on whole wheat toast. That went over so nicely I thought I'd give the cardboard pasta a try. It's not so bad with a ton of vodka sauca on it! So with 5mg of glipizide (my regular nightly dose) and a glass of wine (which lowers blood sugar) the big question is, what's this big pasta feast gonna cost me? Am I going to wind up short of breath wishing I had insulin to counteract the big bad sugar monster? Or am I going to feel buyant and good, the sugar monster at bay and my regular blood flowing nicely throughout?
Tick tock. Tick tock. I check my watch and wait the requisite 2 hours. Who wants to wait the 2 houirs? Have to.
Whoa!!! The result: 130. Are you kidding? I checked it again: 130.
This is a record. An after dinner shockeroo. The pasta actually tasted halfway decent with the vodka sauce and kidney beans, so I ate a lot. Too much. Who cares, I just wanna have a decent dinner, I've had the WORST day and deserve a comfort food. But what is this? 130? It's registering like a gestapo-minded "you need to eat this" cardboard-flavored dinner. But hark! It's pretty decent, all things considered. I don't get it. But let it be known: you can have pasta and your bg can still test at 130. There you go! I'm writing this down for posterity.
It was warm and comforting, pasta-esque with the wine and everything, and I even phoned my mother as I fished the colander out of the closet. Steam rose deliciously from the b\pot on the stove as I swirled the can of kidney beans into the vodka sauce and then into the cooked pasta, eventually allowing it to sit on the shut-down burner for a few minutes. The sauce smelled suspiciously delicious of fresh basil in thick rigotto and tomato paste. The whole wheat spaghetti was extra thick like linguini, and once it was bured in sauce you couldn't tell the linguini was green.
Overall, with a sip of wine, and stabbing and turning the fork while talking to my mother on the phone, the steaming pasta went down like angels in a bowling alley. I slithered and fell, with grace, into the great opening in my esophagus, the big hungry hole, whose taste buds had already prayed to the great Virgin Mary that this food would taste good and not require cracked pepper, which I had run out of last night. No, it was perfection, in a word. And so was my blood sugar. Is this fabulous or what? I am thinking of making seconds.
I will never disparage green linguini again. Or kidney beans! The doctor will never mention vodka sauce but believe you me, it's good for your nealth. So bon appetit!
Are you a diabetic too?
My blood sugar whch has traditionally hovered around 280 to 425 is resting nicely at 121 after a lunch of sardines on whole wheat toast. That went over so nicely I thought I'd give the cardboard pasta a try. It's not so bad with a ton of vodka sauca on it! So with 5mg of glipizide (my regular nightly dose) and a glass of wine (which lowers blood sugar) the big question is, what's this big pasta feast gonna cost me? Am I going to wind up short of breath wishing I had insulin to counteract the big bad sugar monster? Or am I going to feel buyant and good, the sugar monster at bay and my regular blood flowing nicely throughout?
Tick tock. Tick tock. I check my watch and wait the requisite 2 hours. Who wants to wait the 2 houirs? Have to.
Whoa!!! The result: 130. Are you kidding? I checked it again: 130.
This is a record. An after dinner shockeroo. The pasta actually tasted halfway decent with the vodka sauce and kidney beans, so I ate a lot. Too much. Who cares, I just wanna have a decent dinner, I've had the WORST day and deserve a comfort food. But what is this? 130? It's registering like a gestapo-minded "you need to eat this" cardboard-flavored dinner. But hark! It's pretty decent, all things considered. I don't get it. But let it be known: you can have pasta and your bg can still test at 130. There you go! I'm writing this down for posterity.
It was warm and comforting, pasta-esque with the wine and everything, and I even phoned my mother as I fished the colander out of the closet. Steam rose deliciously from the b\pot on the stove as I swirled the can of kidney beans into the vodka sauce and then into the cooked pasta, eventually allowing it to sit on the shut-down burner for a few minutes. The sauce smelled suspiciously delicious of fresh basil in thick rigotto and tomato paste. The whole wheat spaghetti was extra thick like linguini, and once it was bured in sauce you couldn't tell the linguini was green.
Overall, with a sip of wine, and stabbing and turning the fork while talking to my mother on the phone, the steaming pasta went down like angels in a bowling alley. I slithered and fell, with grace, into the great opening in my esophagus, the big hungry hole, whose taste buds had already prayed to the great Virgin Mary that this food would taste good and not require cracked pepper, which I had run out of last night. No, it was perfection, in a word. And so was my blood sugar. Is this fabulous or what? I am thinking of making seconds.
I will never disparage green linguini again. Or kidney beans! The doctor will never mention vodka sauce but believe you me, it's good for your nealth. So bon appetit!
Friday, December 30, 2005
I've crawled out of my cave to post The Best Of, with my friends. I'd really rather say something about my friends because they ARE worth telling the world about, but to be sociable and join in the fun, I will tell the world about the great makeup/perfume products I discovered in 2005. Here is my list, and it will be followed by a list of my friends blogs, so you can rummage around comparing 2005 Best Ofs:
Best Of 2005
1. Philosophy Gingerbread Man Shower Gel and Bubble Bath. I can't wake up without this product. My employer would be wise to ship a case of this stuff to me to ensure I get to work post-showered clean, refreshed, smiling, and smelling good.2. The Different Company's Bois d'Iris perfume. After 30-mumblemumble years of adoring rose perfumes, I fell head over heels for iris and changed my signature scent. This is entirely Maller's fault. You know who you are.
3. Fresh's Umbrian Clay Face Treatment has taken my super-sensitive skin that blotches at a mere whisper of soap or heat, and treated it as the delicate porcelain pain in the *ss it is. I have found my soap, face mask, and treatment bar in the Umbrian Clay product line. I also use the Umbrian Clay toothpaste, shampoo, and hair mask. I am a FOOL in love with Umbrian Clay.
4. Stella Rose Absolute Parfum Intense. I have been speechless since finding my love, Stella Rose Absolute. I thought Stella parfum was the be-all end-all of perfumes for me (aside from Bois d'Iris). But nooooo, there is a fresher jewel that brings me from a blousey cool rose-peony-amber friendly place in my home, to just inside the perimeter of my rose garden on a dewy morning in June. This is the perfume that is my most essential self. It is as though the perfumer made it exactly, and only, for the real and true ME.
5. La Prairie Extrait of Skin Caviar Firming Complex. This is it, this is the secret of my skin, the reason it looks 10 years younger. Now you know.
6. Bobbi Bell Long-Wear Gel Eyeliner in Violet Ink. This eyeliner glides on like silk, makes a beautiful smoky line, stays put all day, and comes in really beautiful colors. I use Violet Ink most of the time, but also sometimes use Sepia Ink or Graphite Shimmer Ink, subtle yet rich smoky colors that are complimentary to my grey-blue eye color. This is the most essential make-up of my wardrobe.7. Chanel Glossimer in Sensuelle. The little swatches on Gloss.com and other sites have no bearing on the real color, which is a soft violet. It is like a soft fuschia that is lost in amethyst. This incredible color is very flattering and makes the teeth look whiter, the smile softer, and the skin flushed pink. I've never used a more flattering Glossimer (and I use SO MANY of them!!).
8. People of the Labyrinths Luctor et Emergo - Body Creme. I think I was the first person to get a jar of this incredible body creme because Autumn, a very kind e-store proprietress, offered me her one and only sample (in a ripped box) at a huge discount. I grabbed it. I wasn't feeling well at the time and to have my favorite perfume in a thick creme form was true heaven. Well it is the thickest, richest body creme I've ever worn. It has an extremely high parfum content (parfum being the second listed ingredient!) so I can't imagine how they can afford to keep this stuff in production considering its decently low price. The body creme is all you need - no need to put on ANY perfume afterwards. It deeply conditions the skin and forms a thin waterproof shield, sort of like a second skin. This is truly magical stuff and I am never without it. My greatest fear is that it will cease production so I WILL have to buy a backup jar, and soon but I see Autumn doesn't carry it any more (!!!!) so I will grab a jar from Marcy quick.I use tons of other products but these are the most stand-out of 2005 for me. Of the 20 Glossimers in my bag, I usually only wear one. Of the 30 eyeliners and eye pencils in my vanity, I always gravitate to Violent Ink. Of the 100+ perfume bottles in shelves around my dressing area, I nearly always reach for the same few. I'm in such a happy rut. May you have a similarly happy rut, routine, and discovery of best products for 2005 and again in 2006.
Best wishes,
Lucia
Here are links to my friend's Best Of lists:
- An Alabaster Brow
- Beauty Addict
- Blogdorf Goodman
- Bois de Jasmin
- Brain Trapped in Girl's Body
- c'est chic
- Crazy Jay Blue
- The Great She Elephant
- Hrmph
- Koneko's *Mostly* Beauty Diary
- Legerdenez
- Make a Mental Note
- Monkey Posh
- Mother Hen's Place
- my life my words my mind
- no one knows why the wolf laughs
- Now Smell This
- �Ombligo!
- Peppermint Patty
- Perfume-Smellin' Things
- Scentzilla!
- She'll be feverish after so much thinking
- Slap of the Day
- Victoria's Own
Sunday, September 18, 2005
My very scary pet
The finches were flying up to the birdfeeder and then swooping into the bushes. They looked surprised because at the last second they'd falter in midair and then take cover quickly in a bush, although, some flew to the top of the birdfeeder and sat up there, looking down.
Bizarre, I thought. I went outside to look at the other side of the birdfeeder and this is what I found -- my pet praying mantis!!! She is intimidating EVERYBODY!
Bizarre, I thought. I went outside to look at the other side of the birdfeeder and this is what I found -- my pet praying mantis!!! She is intimidating EVERYBODY!
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Bug love
I was going to pull out the gigantic wormwood plant at the other end of the garden (big fluffy thing from which absinthe is made) when I buried my hands into the old wood and started to pull -- and a GIGANTIC praying mantis daintily stepped over my knuckles to drop to a lower branch.
This was a mature female, with closed darkened wings and a full six or seven inch length. I looked at her. She turned her head completely around and looked at me. We stood there for a moment.
Then I did something really bizarre: I petted her. I said, "Hello there!" very softly, and using only my index finger, gently stroked her back. She didn't budge, just kept looking at me. Then she took a step forward and stopped again, looking back at me. I said, "Nice to have you here!" and petted her back again! It was smooth going from head to tail, but rough and bristly from tail to head (I was actually stroking her closed wings).
I petted and talked to this praying mantis for a good ten minutes before she tired of me and dropped to another, much lower branch. I didn't even bother to dash inside for the camera. I simply savored the bond, and then went back to gardening. However, the wormwood plant was spared.
This was a mature female, with closed darkened wings and a full six or seven inch length. I looked at her. She turned her head completely around and looked at me. We stood there for a moment.
Then I did something really bizarre: I petted her. I said, "Hello there!" very softly, and using only my index finger, gently stroked her back. She didn't budge, just kept looking at me. Then she took a step forward and stopped again, looking back at me. I said, "Nice to have you here!" and petted her back again! It was smooth going from head to tail, but rough and bristly from tail to head (I was actually stroking her closed wings).
I petted and talked to this praying mantis for a good ten minutes before she tired of me and dropped to another, much lower branch. I didn't even bother to dash inside for the camera. I simply savored the bond, and then went back to gardening. However, the wormwood plant was spared.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Today's crop of insect photography!
I took these in the garden near my front door. I'm using a Sony DSC F-707 and importing them into my Mac Powerbook G4, then use Adobe Photoshop to crop them and add my copyright. Then I upload them to photobucket.com for storage and to link to them from here.
I don't know what the species is on the last one, the orange spotted swallowtail -- but will ask an expert this evening and post the name when I find out.
A Pipevine Swallowtail with pale smeary blue markings.
Another view of the Pipevine Swallowtail.
Red-spotted purple Basilarchia astyanax butterfly (and yes, he's standing upside-down on the flower) - Thanks to bugguide.net for identifying the species for me!
I don't know what the species is on the last one, the orange spotted swallowtail -- but will ask an expert this evening and post the name when I find out.
A Pipevine Swallowtail with pale smeary blue markings.
Another view of the Pipevine Swallowtail.
Red-spotted purple Basilarchia astyanax butterfly (and yes, he's standing upside-down on the flower) - Thanks to bugguide.net for identifying the species for me!
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Remarks at cousin Sydney's Funeral
REMARKS AT FUNERAL OF SYDNEY JOHNSON
spoken July 22, 2005
How can we best summarize Sydney Johnson, my brother? There are many ways to describe him. Loving husband and father, servant of his faith, an engineer, a scientist, an economist, a man who faced adversity and held his head high.
I have another word for him – which summarizes what he meant to us, his brothers and sister. It may surprise many of you who knew him as he became increasingly housebound and even wheelchair-bound.
I would call Syd an Explorer. He loved to explore.
This was brought back to me last month, as I visited Syd in his Danbury hospital room. He was heavily medicated and sleeping and breathing deeply. On the TV above his bed were dozens gazelles and giraffes running across the screen – Cynthia looked at me and said: "He loves the Discovery Channel."
Suddenly, seeing those gazelles and giraffes, I remembered how much Syd loved to travel and learn about and explore many, many new worlds.
When he graduated from college in 1966, Syd was the first in our family to move overseas – to York and to London, England, where he spent the better part of two decades. He decided to take the old Queen Mary, a traditional transatlantic ocean voyage. He loved York – the old Minster, the Shambles.
I was privileged in the early 1970s to spend time with him in England. We traveled many places, both in the UK and elsewhere.
I recall, particularly an adventure in Morocco. We had just purchased Moroccan jalabas, the long flowing Arab robes, at a souk in Casablanca, and decided to wear them as we boarded a long distance bus, filled with Arabs and Berbers, across the Atlas Mountains.
I fancied that my French skills and my somewhat darker skin (after all, we have a Spanish ancestor on our mother's side) would enable us to pass as locals. Syd, whose Scandinavian origins were immediately betrayed by a face as red as a beetroot after a few hours of African sunlight, convinced me otherwise.
I remember another trip, when Syd's Serbian language skills betrayed him and he purchased a train ticket from Belgrade to Venice on a train that actually went to Switzerland – the Swiss police removed him from the train and, after he was released, he had to hitchhike through the Simplon Tunnel. He had a grand time, and told that story many times afterward.
Carolyn remembers the Christmas skiing trip in the Austrian Alps – Syd was an excellent athlete. And a protective older brother to us all.
I recall a phone call from Istanbul one day. It was Syd. He had taken the Orient Express train to Turkey. There had just been an earthquake in Istanbul and he wanted to describe it for us.
Yet there was one more trip.
The poet Elizabeth Bishop wrote, at the conclusion of her poem "Questions of Travel":
/ . . . / Should we have stayed at home
/ . . . / Wherever that might be?
Syd eventually learned that his travel days were over and that he would stay at home. But, like Lou Gehrig in very similar circumstances, he considered himself lucky – or as many would say, including Syd, blessed.
Lucky to be blessed with a loving and devoted wife. Blessed also with a son who was smart and caring, and whose interest in computers paralleled his own.
At home, during the final decade of his life, he became an involuntary explorer, on a trip that none of us would envy him for – as he faced his increasing disability. But he still loved to explore.
I visited him on the evening before his 60th birthday, last November. I shared with him photos of the recent trip that my daughter Marta and I had made to India. He was fascinated by the trip. Syd's eyes lighted up, and he nodded with glee, as we discussed photos of some village monkeys who begged money from tourists, and then took the coins to a local fruit seller, who gave them bananas in exchange. After the monkeys finished the bananas, they awaited the next tourist bus. Syd chortled.
In those final years, Syd dealt with his disease with courage, dignity, fortitude, and incredible grace – and never allowed it to undermine his faith. In that last journey, he became a hero for many of us – and now he has one more journey, one more exploration, and we who are left behind can only note how much we enjoyed his company, and his exploring mind, and say: "Thank you, Syd. Have a great trip."
Bruce Johnson (Seattle, WA )
spoken July 22, 2005
How can we best summarize Sydney Johnson, my brother? There are many ways to describe him. Loving husband and father, servant of his faith, an engineer, a scientist, an economist, a man who faced adversity and held his head high.I have another word for him – which summarizes what he meant to us, his brothers and sister. It may surprise many of you who knew him as he became increasingly housebound and even wheelchair-bound.
I would call Syd an Explorer. He loved to explore.
This was brought back to me last month, as I visited Syd in his Danbury hospital room. He was heavily medicated and sleeping and breathing deeply. On the TV above his bed were dozens gazelles and giraffes running across the screen – Cynthia looked at me and said: "He loves the Discovery Channel."
Suddenly, seeing those gazelles and giraffes, I remembered how much Syd loved to travel and learn about and explore many, many new worlds.
When he graduated from college in 1966, Syd was the first in our family to move overseas – to York and to London, England, where he spent the better part of two decades. He decided to take the old Queen Mary, a traditional transatlantic ocean voyage. He loved York – the old Minster, the Shambles.
I was privileged in the early 1970s to spend time with him in England. We traveled many places, both in the UK and elsewhere.
I recall, particularly an adventure in Morocco. We had just purchased Moroccan jalabas, the long flowing Arab robes, at a souk in Casablanca, and decided to wear them as we boarded a long distance bus, filled with Arabs and Berbers, across the Atlas Mountains.
I fancied that my French skills and my somewhat darker skin (after all, we have a Spanish ancestor on our mother's side) would enable us to pass as locals. Syd, whose Scandinavian origins were immediately betrayed by a face as red as a beetroot after a few hours of African sunlight, convinced me otherwise.
I remember another trip, when Syd's Serbian language skills betrayed him and he purchased a train ticket from Belgrade to Venice on a train that actually went to Switzerland – the Swiss police removed him from the train and, after he was released, he had to hitchhike through the Simplon Tunnel. He had a grand time, and told that story many times afterward.
Carolyn remembers the Christmas skiing trip in the Austrian Alps – Syd was an excellent athlete. And a protective older brother to us all.
I recall a phone call from Istanbul one day. It was Syd. He had taken the Orient Express train to Turkey. There had just been an earthquake in Istanbul and he wanted to describe it for us.
Yet there was one more trip.
The poet Elizabeth Bishop wrote, at the conclusion of her poem "Questions of Travel":
/ . . . / Should we have stayed at home
/ . . . / Wherever that might be?
Syd eventually learned that his travel days were over and that he would stay at home. But, like Lou Gehrig in very similar circumstances, he considered himself lucky – or as many would say, including Syd, blessed.
Lucky to be blessed with a loving and devoted wife. Blessed also with a son who was smart and caring, and whose interest in computers paralleled his own.
At home, during the final decade of his life, he became an involuntary explorer, on a trip that none of us would envy him for – as he faced his increasing disability. But he still loved to explore.
I visited him on the evening before his 60th birthday, last November. I shared with him photos of the recent trip that my daughter Marta and I had made to India. He was fascinated by the trip. Syd's eyes lighted up, and he nodded with glee, as we discussed photos of some village monkeys who begged money from tourists, and then took the coins to a local fruit seller, who gave them bananas in exchange. After the monkeys finished the bananas, they awaited the next tourist bus. Syd chortled.
In those final years, Syd dealt with his disease with courage, dignity, fortitude, and incredible grace – and never allowed it to undermine his faith. In that last journey, he became a hero for many of us – and now he has one more journey, one more exploration, and we who are left behind can only note how much we enjoyed his company, and his exploring mind, and say: "Thank you, Syd. Have a great trip."
Bruce Johnson (Seattle, WA )
Friday, August 19, 2005
A bizarre comparison: Musc Ravageur versus Jasmine de Nuit
You wonder why I am comparing them? Because they have a very similar "vibe." They could actually be the same perfume except for the candy/churchy differences. Let's see why . . . . .
I have The Different Company's Jasmine de Nuit on my right arm, and Frederick Malle's Musc Ravageur on my left arm. It's been 30 minutes.
Sillage: Similar! There is a sameness to the amount of sillage given the same exact quantity of perfume applied to each arm, and a similar "vibe" to the perfumes themselves. However, my nose picks up a beautiful candy sweetness from the Jasmine, and an incredible churchy incense quality from the Musc.
Taken from their sites:
They have very strong notes in common: Amber and cinnamon. A common result: Musc Ravageur has vanilla and musk which may produce an accord similar to the Nasmin de Nuit's jasmine, which is a musky floral.
But here's the big distinction between them: The sandalwood and star anise candy-sweeten Jasmin de Nuit, while the bergamot-musk combination causes a skin-scent incense quality to Musc Ravageur.
I don't think I would ever layer these two perfumes, but I do believe that the Jasmin de Nuit and Musc Ravageur have such a similar impact on the skin as to be summer and winter renditions of the same perfume. Test for yourself and see!
I have The Different Company's Jasmine de Nuit on my right arm, and Frederick Malle's Musc Ravageur on my left arm. It's been 30 minutes.
Sillage: Similar! There is a sameness to the amount of sillage given the same exact quantity of perfume applied to each arm, and a similar "vibe" to the perfumes themselves. However, my nose picks up a beautiful candy sweetness from the Jasmine, and an incredible churchy incense quality from the Musc.
Taken from their sites:
- MUSC RAVAGEUR. Sensual and sophisticated. Powerful yet perfectly controlled. Dramatic and mysterious. MUSC RAVAGEUR is a grown-up perfume, an uncompromising Oriental, which trumps current fads. Its explosive departure of bergamot, tangerine and cinnamon is set against a lusty backdrop of vanilla, musk and amber. No flowers, just a refined and exalted skin scent. Its creator: Maurice Roucel
- JASMIN DE NUIT is a childhood dream, the sweetness of the flower that opens at nightfall mingled with a hint of star anise on a bed of amber. Egyptian Jasmine is used abundantly here and, combined with spices such as cardamom and cinnamon, delivers a series of sweet yet powerful sensual notes. Olfactory note: Floral and amber, fruity blackcurrent. Main components: Egyptian Jasmine, Badian (Star Anise), Ceylon Cinnamon, Cardamom, Sandalwood, Amber.
They have very strong notes in common: Amber and cinnamon. A common result: Musc Ravageur has vanilla and musk which may produce an accord similar to the Nasmin de Nuit's jasmine, which is a musky floral.
But here's the big distinction between them: The sandalwood and star anise candy-sweeten Jasmin de Nuit, while the bergamot-musk combination causes a skin-scent incense quality to Musc Ravageur.
I don't think I would ever layer these two perfumes, but I do believe that the Jasmin de Nuit and Musc Ravageur have such a similar impact on the skin as to be summer and winter renditions of the same perfume. Test for yourself and see!
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Comparing Two Carnation Perfumes
CdG Carnation on the left wrist. JAR Diamond Waters on the right wrist. It's been 30 minutes.
It's not easy to tell them apart. However, I detect just a hint more clove in the CdG, and a smidgeon of jasmine in the JAR. The JAR also seems to have a very slight blend of oppoponax into it.
The CdG is an overall impression of Red Carnations and cloves, and has a very slightly soapy quality. The JAR is an overall impression of White, or more subtle Carnations -- and Oppoponax. It has no soapy quality whatsoever.
If I bring my nose out and away from my arm to catch only the sillage, they are identical except one seems warmer (the CdG) and JAR has a church incense vibe.
If I bring my wallet to the store to buy them, the CdG Carnation is in the $100 range, and the JAR Diamond Waters is in the $800 range. I guess it all depends on how much you want to spend, and whether or not you prefer soapy or incensy carnations!
FOUR HOURS LATER: The JAR has turned into a barely detectible light floral with hints of carnation and opoponax. It is not a "carnation" fragrance at this point. The CdG is just as strong as when I first applied it (LOL). And true. Steady as she goes!
It's not easy to tell them apart. However, I detect just a hint more clove in the CdG, and a smidgeon of jasmine in the JAR. The JAR also seems to have a very slight blend of oppoponax into it.
The CdG is an overall impression of Red Carnations and cloves, and has a very slightly soapy quality. The JAR is an overall impression of White, or more subtle Carnations -- and Oppoponax. It has no soapy quality whatsoever.
If I bring my nose out and away from my arm to catch only the sillage, they are identical except one seems warmer (the CdG) and JAR has a church incense vibe.
If I bring my wallet to the store to buy them, the CdG Carnation is in the $100 range, and the JAR Diamond Waters is in the $800 range. I guess it all depends on how much you want to spend, and whether or not you prefer soapy or incensy carnations!
FOUR HOURS LATER: The JAR has turned into a barely detectible light floral with hints of carnation and opoponax. It is not a "carnation" fragrance at this point. The CdG is just as strong as when I first applied it (LOL). And true. Steady as she goes!
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
10 favorite perfumes
The dog days of August! whew. I can't even take the camera outside because the lenses fog. My house windows are fogged! And my ankles are covered with mosquito bites. BUT!! There is respite in a cooling shower and a refreshing perfume. Feel human again! Here are my ten perfume choices (in no particular order) to lighten up these dog days of summer:
- Carthusia's Meditteraneo (soft lemony iced tea)
- The Different Company's Divine Bergamote (soft citrus)
- Michel Comte's Shared Water pour femme (jasmine and saltwater)
- Bond No. 9's Hamptons (a greener rendition of Chinatown)
- Chanel No. 19 (sparkling greenery)
- Etro Heliotrope (soft heliotrope)
- People of the Labyrinths' Luctor et Emergo (dried sweet grasses)
- Stella McCartney's Stella (cooling roses, with amber)
- Comme de Garcons' Carnation (cooling carnation)
- Monyette Paris (tropical paradise)
Want to see more Top 10 Summer Fragrance lists? Check out An Alabaster Brow, Blogdorf Goodman, Bois de Jasmin, Brain Trapped in Girl's Body, C'est Chic, Koneko's *Mostly* Beauty Diary, Life in Paris, Ombligo!, Seldom Nice Nowadays, She'll Be Feverish After So Much Thinking, Self-Styled Siren, and This Bananafish Smells Like Leaves.
Friday, August 12, 2005
More beautiful creatures from this morning
Click on any photo for a closer view.
Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (aka Yellow Swallowtail).
His wings.
A House Finch poses for me.
Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (aka Yellow Swallowtail).
His wings.
A House Finch poses for me.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
More critters from the garden this morning
Painted lady closeup. 
Dragonfly - Male Blue Dasher.
A bee works a some lavender.
Dragonfly - Male Blue Dasher.
A bee works a some lavender.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Camera love
I stalk butterflies, and hummingbirds (with the camera). Gotta get those hummingbird photos fast because they're fattening up right now for the long flight south. They will be flying south in a week or two! Here are my very first photographs of hummingbirds and butterflies, taken over the past 3 days.
Pipevine Swallowtail.
Closeup of the Pipevine Swallowtail.
Painted Lady.
Hummingbird in shadow.
Hummingbird in light (a different hummingbird from the previous).
Hummingbird's wingspan.
Pipevine Swallowtail.
Closeup of the Pipevine Swallowtail.
Painted Lady.
Hummingbird in shadow.
Hummingbird in light (a different hummingbird from the previous).
Hummingbird's wingspan.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Michel Comte - Shared Water EDT Femme
1. The bottle is STUNNING!! You see the black piece on top? You press that, and it sprays perfume upward. So I put my wrist on the black cap and pushed, and voila, I had perfume on my wrist. The bottom is round, not flat, so the bottle rocks and the aqua colored perfume looks very "marine" LOL.2. This perfume starts out with a smashing narcissus/patchouli combination. You thought you'd tried everything, right? Wrong! If you like TDC Jasmine de Nuit, and/or Angel, you will adore this bright sparkling combination of the two. Except one thing: the patchouli is blended down into the jasmine so that it seems you are inhaling a spring garden, dirt and all. You know why? Because bergamot adds a punch to it, and the violet adds an earthy sweetness. Very subtle bergamot and violet. But how brilliant to combine these notes! The end result is such a gorgeous spring narcissus.
The notes are:
Top: Mountain Narcissus, Purple Shiso, Bergamot, Lily of the Valley, Violet
Heart: Freesia, Orchid, Vanilla
Bass: Patchouli, Vanille, Vetiver, Moss, Basmati Rice
3. Then the heart notes start cooking. Here, layered right under the strong narcissus and just over the sweet patchoulli, we find freesia keeping the sweet light on, and vanilla coming out of nowhere to add body and depth. Wow. So now the narcissus is floating sweetly on a bed of patchouli and the freesia and vanilla chime in to add character to the perfume. Now it's smelling more natural and yet, very sexy. There is a "skin scent-ness" to this. Oddly, the freesia also begins to make a more watery accord.
4. So now the water is starting to happen. It's an Atlantic bru-haha. Patchouli, violet and freesia are starting to get salty like a storm on the Atlantic, and meanwhile the narcissus and vanilla are providing a yachtsman-like full sail breeze. Now I begin to understand the "water" in this perfume.
5. More water in the form of basmati rice. Why does it smell like water? Because the rice is earthy, herbal, salty, rice-y, and if you add this to all the other notes which have not died down yet, you get a fabulous seaworthiness. Plus, big bonus here, the narcissus is still going strong!
6. Lasted 5 hours on me! Dries down continually salty sea with narcissus on top, which is pretty much the same as basmatic rice (a soothing note!). It just never quits being interesting and beautiful. I have finally found a marine fragrance I can LOVE.
7. I bought my bottle at first-in-fragrance.com.
I have been thinking about how to create an ocean accord. It's very hard but the only way to do it successfully seems to be by using floral combinations plus moss, and in this case, the lovely basmati rice. Narcissus is a sexy and sultry smell, and rice is a comforting smell, and moss, violet and patchouli are elemental smells. It's interesting that a photographer figured out how to make such a winning combination. I don't know who the nose was on this perfume, maybe someone else knows?
Sunday, June 26, 2005
A Maturing Garden
This is a three foot round of mother-of-thyme which has bloomed and spilled over into the walkway. There are seven thymes and only two have grown to three foot fragrant stepping stones. The rest will spill into the path next year, including caraway, lemon, and two more wooleys (one of which is gigantic right now). One of the thymes is microscopically tiny and will probably take a couple of years to reach this size and blooming power.
The nepeta (catnip) was such a tiny thing and being eaten by cats and rabbits, that I put a chime into the bush to scare the critters away. Well it grew so large and bloomed so vociferously that the bees keep hitting the chimes. As a result, the nepeta is a moving and fragrant bush that softly chimes every minute or two.
This is the walkway where Mme. Isaac Periere once dominated. As you can see, the lilies have grown up all around and inside her now, and stand about 10 feet tall. Each bloom is a little bigger than a dinner plate. This garden powerfully scents the entire neighborhood and cars tend to slow down or stop in order to glimpse the source of the scent. All the way in the back you can see an artemesia starting to bush out. This is artemesia abrosanthum, the one from which absinthe is made. What are all those sticks looking so messy? That's lavender just starting to bloom throughout the entire bottom layer of the garden, jutting up into the liles, roses, heliotrope - everywhere. Zack likes to eat the flowers.
The heliotrope has finally begun to bloom. It likes a lot of food and water. The leaves are an incredibly soft velvety texture and the blooms smell like dried black cherries, sweet woodruff (or just sheared hay), warm pie crust, and deep delicious cooking vanilla. You can smell these very tiny flowers all the way to the driveway, even over and above the powerful scent of the lilies. Heliotrope is an amazing fragrance garden additive!
Hello!
The nepeta (catnip) was such a tiny thing and being eaten by cats and rabbits, that I put a chime into the bush to scare the critters away. Well it grew so large and bloomed so vociferously that the bees keep hitting the chimes. As a result, the nepeta is a moving and fragrant bush that softly chimes every minute or two.
This is the walkway where Mme. Isaac Periere once dominated. As you can see, the lilies have grown up all around and inside her now, and stand about 10 feet tall. Each bloom is a little bigger than a dinner plate. This garden powerfully scents the entire neighborhood and cars tend to slow down or stop in order to glimpse the source of the scent. All the way in the back you can see an artemesia starting to bush out. This is artemesia abrosanthum, the one from which absinthe is made. What are all those sticks looking so messy? That's lavender just starting to bloom throughout the entire bottom layer of the garden, jutting up into the liles, roses, heliotrope - everywhere. Zack likes to eat the flowers.
The heliotrope has finally begun to bloom. It likes a lot of food and water. The leaves are an incredibly soft velvety texture and the blooms smell like dried black cherries, sweet woodruff (or just sheared hay), warm pie crust, and deep delicious cooking vanilla. You can smell these very tiny flowers all the way to the driveway, even over and above the powerful scent of the lilies. Heliotrope is an amazing fragrance garden additive!
Hello!
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Angel Violet
Angel violet was created by Francoise Caron(Aimez Moi). It went on me this morning very similar to Angel in subtle green, patchouli and chocolate notes. The violet note seemed like a sweet (but not candylike) topnote to me.
However, as the morning progresses, I'm finding that it becomes a 100% incense perfume. The notes have combined to become churchy - no, make that Cathedral. There is no coldness to this incense. But the combination of notes has created a warm incense accord, not smoky but very comforting, peaceful, and evocative of sitting in a church pew on a warm day with the sunlight streaming in through high decorated windows.
Because the perfume is so well blended, the patchouli and violet have both subsumed themselves into the major accord, with an undertone of chocolate and an overtone of incense.
However, as the morning progresses, I'm finding that it becomes a 100% incense perfume. The notes have combined to become churchy - no, make that Cathedral. There is no coldness to this incense. But the combination of notes has created a warm incense accord, not smoky but very comforting, peaceful, and evocative of sitting in a church pew on a warm day with the sunlight streaming in through high decorated windows.
Because the perfume is so well blended, the patchouli and violet have both subsumed themselves into the major accord, with an undertone of chocolate and an overtone of incense.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Monday, May 30, 2005
I Hope SHOPNBC Goes Bankrupt
I've spent thousands at ShopNBC. At one point I was extremely addicted and bought tons of jewelry I'll never wear. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, you name it, I bought it. All designer stuff, too. For years I wanted a pair of diamond hoops. I bought one pair, designer, but they're too big for the office. So I continued to shop for another smaller pair. I finally found them - and I found a coupon for $50 off at ShopNBC BUT it was only for new customers. So I of course created a new account and bought the earrings, with the $50 off coupon (wouldn't anyone!). ShopNBC used to have good quality merchandise when it was ValueVision. But after it became ShopNBC and fired all the good hosts and designers, and started selling vacuum cleaners and other department store crap, the quality deteriorated to a really visible degree. The workmanship sucks, to put it mildly. Anyway I received these $500 earrings and hated them. The diamonds had visible black carbon bits in them and had zero sparkle, the earrings didn't close properly, and instead of looking like 18k white gold, they looked like tarnished silver. Really bad junk. So I boxed them up and sent them back with a note saying "No Thanks." I also insured the package, of course, for $500.
Well a month goes by and I see they've continued taking payments out of my checking account. So I called up and asked what was going on? Can you believe this, but some woman gets on the phone and starts yelling at me that I had purposely sent them one earring and that I should pay in full for both earrings! I said wait, I returned the earrings, I don't even like them! She continued to yell at me for my "poor ass attitude" and stated again that I would pay full price, and if I wanted my money back, to go see the post office. Unbelievable!!
It was too late for the post office to help me. They only consider insurance liability within 30 days. This was more like 45 days and I was out of luck. So I called ShopNBC back again and asked them if they found the other earring yet? I got yelled at again, called a liar and cheat, and they hung up on me. Mind you I am a very mild mannered woman. I was appalled.
Another month went by and they deducted more money. There was no way to stop them because the purchase was attached to my debit Visa, not a regular credit card. I didn't know what to do. I definitely put both of those awful earrings into the box, I know I did because they didn't snap shut properly and I really struggled with them.
So as far as I'm concerned, this was a scam on the part of ShopNBC, to take money from someone who returned an item. So now they have the earrings AND my $500 and I have nothing but fury and disgust for them.
I would like to warn everyone about ShopNBC. The quality is terrible and the customer service deserves to be jailed. They sell crap. I wish I'd kept one earring so I could take a photo and show it to everyone who is reading this blog entry. Those diamonds were AWFUL!! No sparkle. I would have been embarassed to wear them. And now I've been accused of being a thief!!
If you ever tune into that channel on your TV set, or if god forbid you ever look at their web site, I want you to remember to look very closely at the diamonds. You will see that they are opaque (you can't see through them because they are so included and cloudy), and they have carbon bits in them (junk diamonds). Do NOT buy anything from these people in case you ever have to return something. Because they will steal the item and blame you for the bad return and MAKE YOU PAY FOR THE ITEM YOU RETURNED. Remember this. They are bad people and they do bad business! Completely unethical!
My goodness am I ever cured from buying anything on TV ever again. I'm done with that. And I sincerely hope ShopNBC and all their affiliates go bankrupt and their "bad ass" name-calling people go down with the ship.
Well a month goes by and I see they've continued taking payments out of my checking account. So I called up and asked what was going on? Can you believe this, but some woman gets on the phone and starts yelling at me that I had purposely sent them one earring and that I should pay in full for both earrings! I said wait, I returned the earrings, I don't even like them! She continued to yell at me for my "poor ass attitude" and stated again that I would pay full price, and if I wanted my money back, to go see the post office. Unbelievable!!It was too late for the post office to help me. They only consider insurance liability within 30 days. This was more like 45 days and I was out of luck. So I called ShopNBC back again and asked them if they found the other earring yet? I got yelled at again, called a liar and cheat, and they hung up on me. Mind you I am a very mild mannered woman. I was appalled.
Another month went by and they deducted more money. There was no way to stop them because the purchase was attached to my debit Visa, not a regular credit card. I didn't know what to do. I definitely put both of those awful earrings into the box, I know I did because they didn't snap shut properly and I really struggled with them.
So as far as I'm concerned, this was a scam on the part of ShopNBC, to take money from someone who returned an item. So now they have the earrings AND my $500 and I have nothing but fury and disgust for them.
I would like to warn everyone about ShopNBC. The quality is terrible and the customer service deserves to be jailed. They sell crap. I wish I'd kept one earring so I could take a photo and show it to everyone who is reading this blog entry. Those diamonds were AWFUL!! No sparkle. I would have been embarassed to wear them. And now I've been accused of being a thief!!
If you ever tune into that channel on your TV set, or if god forbid you ever look at their web site, I want you to remember to look very closely at the diamonds. You will see that they are opaque (you can't see through them because they are so included and cloudy), and they have carbon bits in them (junk diamonds). Do NOT buy anything from these people in case you ever have to return something. Because they will steal the item and blame you for the bad return and MAKE YOU PAY FOR THE ITEM YOU RETURNED. Remember this. They are bad people and they do bad business! Completely unethical!
My goodness am I ever cured from buying anything on TV ever again. I'm done with that. And I sincerely hope ShopNBC and all their affiliates go bankrupt and their "bad ass" name-calling people go down with the ship.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
The garden explodes into bloom
I planted this salvia "May Night" last spring. Salvia is really just a showy sage. May Night, voted plant of the year 1997, has a very pungent smell, a cross between a strong sage and a sexy lily. May NIght's fragrance fills the air around one big area of the garden. It started blooming about a week ago but this morning, I found bees and butterflies working it like mad. Below it is my first rose of the year. It bloomed this morning! It is a Madame Isaac Periere, my favorite rose because of it's extremely strong raspberry-rose fragrance, and it occupies a special garden near the front of the house where its ten to fifteen foot canes are arched and pegged to the ground for maximum flower production. My irises and rhododendrons are also in bloom in great bunches everywhere. The red rhodo is about twelve feet high and in front of it are several long swaths of iris pallida (the one used in perfumery). If you get within 10 feet of the irises you literally choke from the strong sweet fragrance. The bottom photograph captures the insane color but not the power of the massed bloom. It's like a circus out there!
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Perfume review: Bond No. 9 New York - Chinatown
You know how your teeth can suddenly hurt from sweets? Well before I became intoxicated with Chinatown, and the bottle it came in, I thought I was going to retch from its initial painfully sweet smell of almondy cake icing. Then, without really thinking about it, my mind wandered to a spring day in New York's Soho district when the sidewalk trees have just leafed out, and the blue skies and weather are perfect, and you can smell street vendor's new clothes, art galleries, and the city's metals - like the nearby subway stairs and fire escapes. It was that strange metallic tinge that led me to popping the cap once again, this time to figure out the source of the metallic smell. To my astonishment, I discovered it wasn't metal, but rather lemon and vanilla -- and I suddenly thought FORTUNE COOKIE!
I thought, "Aha! I have cracked the mystery of its name. I understand like no other person on earth, why it's called Chinatown." After all, other reviewers had decreed the stuff 'sweet cakey poison' (and other nauseating adjectives) -- but I, and ONLY I, had found its lemony-sweet, crisp vanilla fortune-cookie heart. And metal. Hmm. And an insane resemblance to Black Phoenix Alchemy Laboratories' perfume oil called Dragon's Milk.
Still mentally admiring a bright and colorful street in Soho, I continued to smell the bottle and my wrist, looking for the requisite cherry blossoms (or sakura, as they say), thinking there must be more to this perfume's name than a fortune cookie. Instead, I found peach blossoms, which I also love in Clive Christian's X for Women, another heady perfume that's hard to describe. But back to Chinatown: why the strong peach blossoms? Again my mind wandered and I found myself thinking of the bright orange poppies that are blooming in my front garden. They are blindingly bright studies in delicate silk, fluttering in the cool Spring breeze. I sniff my wrist again and I detect a slight powderiness, soft and delicate, a little like a Geisha's flawlessly made-up face. Could peach blossoms be considered oriental, or was synesthesia getting the best of me?
But wait, I know that smell. It's . . . it's peony! Those gigantic dinner-plate sized fluttery pink or white blossoms that bloom in the spring. Another heady flower and so amazingly blended with the peach blossom flowers. Cool, refreshing flowers, and a base earthiness that reminds me of a garden's earthiness, a bit of patchouli, which smells like fresh clover and moist loam. And there's an interesting spicy note reminiscent of Indian food: cardamom. It has given a tiny edginess, a burst of energy, to the flowers and earth.
Nose to wrist again. I find the lemony-peony-peach flowers, and earthiness, have combined with yet another aromatic accord that is brilliantly cheerful and luxurious. As time progresses, the powderiness identifies itself as a sultry woods, gardenia and tuberose accord that bloom together like white flowers in a dense, dark night. They are as bright as a full white moon on a black sea. I begin to think of antique wooden Chinese ships at sea, loaded with silks and fragrant with spices, heading into port. And Chinatown begins to take shape in my mind, not as a part of New York City, but rather as an impression of China, and luxury, and beauty.
I smell silks and wooden ships, big blousy peonies and delicate fruity-fresh peach blossoms, crisp lemony fortune cookies, and a busyness, a pure energy, waiting to be unleashed.
Long hours later, after the perfume and my senses have calmed down, I find the patchouli note, in its fresh and tender green earthiness, has risen to a balsamic finish and the perfume becomes very sophisticated, very "night out," and strangest of all, it becomes comforting. The scent of the toasty lemon-vanilla fortune cookie has returned to float just above this beautiful perfume, and so my own arm, finally, scents the air around me like a mouth-watering dessert.
Chinatown perfume is the impression of China on New York. The sophisticated artsy image of Soho fades and is replaced by bustling Chinatown. Not as a part of New York, like Elizabeth Street with all its wonderful restaurants, but more like those wooden Chinese ships gliding into The Port Authority and unloading their cargo into New York so we can admire it, and smell it, and wear it. I think Chinatown perfume is New York's ode and Thank You, to China.
What the perfumer says: Top notes of bursts of peach blossom (a mystic fruit in Chinese Mythology that Taoists consider the elixir of life. The midnotes are an intoxicating cross-cultural bouquet; Peony (known as Sho Yo, or Most Beautiful, the Chinese flower of love, luxury, and indulgence), blended with creamy-sweet gardenia (the flower Billie Holiday wore in her hair) and sultry tuberose (known in the Western World as the Mistress of the Night), and mouth-watering patchouli, which adds a spiky note to the other florals. The lingering basenotes are cardamom (an ancient spice from the East, long used as a condiment) and dark woods (recalling the scent of Chinese inlaid lacquered boxes).
I thought, "Aha! I have cracked the mystery of its name. I understand like no other person on earth, why it's called Chinatown." After all, other reviewers had decreed the stuff 'sweet cakey poison' (and other nauseating adjectives) -- but I, and ONLY I, had found its lemony-sweet, crisp vanilla fortune-cookie heart. And metal. Hmm. And an insane resemblance to Black Phoenix Alchemy Laboratories' perfume oil called Dragon's Milk. Still mentally admiring a bright and colorful street in Soho, I continued to smell the bottle and my wrist, looking for the requisite cherry blossoms (or sakura, as they say), thinking there must be more to this perfume's name than a fortune cookie. Instead, I found peach blossoms, which I also love in Clive Christian's X for Women, another heady perfume that's hard to describe. But back to Chinatown: why the strong peach blossoms? Again my mind wandered and I found myself thinking of the bright orange poppies that are blooming in my front garden. They are blindingly bright studies in delicate silk, fluttering in the cool Spring breeze. I sniff my wrist again and I detect a slight powderiness, soft and delicate, a little like a Geisha's flawlessly made-up face. Could peach blossoms be considered oriental, or was synesthesia getting the best of me? But wait, I know that smell. It's . . . it's peony! Those gigantic dinner-plate sized fluttery pink or white blossoms that bloom in the spring. Another heady flower and so amazingly blended with the peach blossom flowers. Cool, refreshing flowers, and a base earthiness that reminds me of a garden's earthiness, a bit of patchouli, which smells like fresh clover and moist loam. And there's an interesting spicy note reminiscent of Indian food: cardamom. It has given a tiny edginess, a burst of energy, to the flowers and earth.
Nose to wrist again. I find the lemony-peony-peach flowers, and earthiness, have combined with yet another aromatic accord that is brilliantly cheerful and luxurious. As time progresses, the powderiness identifies itself as a sultry woods, gardenia and tuberose accord that bloom together like white flowers in a dense, dark night. They are as bright as a full white moon on a black sea. I begin to think of antique wooden Chinese ships at sea, loaded with silks and fragrant with spices, heading into port. And Chinatown begins to take shape in my mind, not as a part of New York City, but rather as an impression of China, and luxury, and beauty. I smell silks and wooden ships, big blousy peonies and delicate fruity-fresh peach blossoms, crisp lemony fortune cookies, and a busyness, a pure energy, waiting to be unleashed.
Long hours later, after the perfume and my senses have calmed down, I find the patchouli note, in its fresh and tender green earthiness, has risen to a balsamic finish and the perfume becomes very sophisticated, very "night out," and strangest of all, it becomes comforting. The scent of the toasty lemon-vanilla fortune cookie has returned to float just above this beautiful perfume, and so my own arm, finally, scents the air around me like a mouth-watering dessert.
Chinatown perfume is the impression of China on New York. The sophisticated artsy image of Soho fades and is replaced by bustling Chinatown. Not as a part of New York, like Elizabeth Street with all its wonderful restaurants, but more like those wooden Chinese ships gliding into The Port Authority and unloading their cargo into New York so we can admire it, and smell it, and wear it. I think Chinatown perfume is New York's ode and Thank You, to China.
What the perfumer says: Top notes of bursts of peach blossom (a mystic fruit in Chinese Mythology that Taoists consider the elixir of life. The midnotes are an intoxicating cross-cultural bouquet; Peony (known as Sho Yo, or Most Beautiful, the Chinese flower of love, luxury, and indulgence), blended with creamy-sweet gardenia (the flower Billie Holiday wore in her hair) and sultry tuberose (known in the Western World as the Mistress of the Night), and mouth-watering patchouli, which adds a spiky note to the other florals. The lingering basenotes are cardamom (an ancient spice from the East, long used as a condiment) and dark woods (recalling the scent of Chinese inlaid lacquered boxes).
Parfum, EDP and EDT Strengths
Parfum, EDP, EDT and Cologne perfume terms refer to the strength of the perfume oils. The higher the percentage of oils, the longer the lasting power. Also, the less diluted the perfume is, the better you can detect all the different oils that were used to create it. Think of it this way: a perfume that has rose, jasmine and amber might also include a hint of peony. In a parfum strength, you'd probably be able to detect the peony, whereas in the cologne, it might be diluted so much that it disappears. This very slight difference doesn't seem very important when you compare bottles by sniffing them, but when you go to wear the perfume, the alcohol/perfume oil dilutions play out very differently on the warmth and chemistry of your skin.Eau Fraiche has very little perfume oil. Eau de Cologne (or just Cologne) is next with 2 - 5% perfume oils. After that is Eau de Toilette (or Toilette Water), then Eau de Parfum, then Soie de Parfum, then Parfum (or Perfume) which is usually the final concentration with the most perfume oil. Sometimes you'll find Perfume Oils for sale, and these can be very strong with 30% perfume in an oil base (rather than an alcohol base). Here is an interesting FAQ where you can read more about perfume concentrations and other quick info about perfumes - you'll have to register to access the page.
I usually prefer parfum, then EDP, then EDT. But there are some perfumes where a light touch is just perfect, like Maja, Tea Rose, and some others where the lightness of the fragrance is what makes it so charming. I think some vanilla based perfumes are better as an EDP because vanilla needs to be a little heavy handed to bring out its beauty. If a vanilla were represented as an EDT, such as Vanilla Fields, it needs to be blended with enough other notes to make it a more complex scent that (therefore) smells very nice as an EDT strength.
I enjoy parfums the most because I can detect all the subtle notes in them. I think of parfum as being the best headphones on a stereo system, and edt as being the speakers the set came with. EDP is a medium priced set of speakers that most people are used to and enjoy.
Aunt Judy's Attic is also loaded with a quick/easy reference to a few perfume facts.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Iris Perfumes
In Greek mythology, the goddess Iris was the messenger of the gods, the feminine equivalent to Hermes. Romans flavoured their wine with irises, and threw them on their fires to scent the air. The Iris flower, (known as "Fleur de Lis"), has represented the French monarchy since the medieval era. During the Renaissance, gloves were filled with iris powder to scent the air around the wearer. Chinese men took it internally to ensure virility, and women used it cosmetically to enhance their complexions, and to dye kimonos. More recently, irises are found on Florence's coat of arms, in carved bas-relief within medieval churches, and in the paintings of Claude Monet, Van Gogh, and the Dutch Masters.
The iris has hundreds of botanical species and thousands of varieties, but only one is dedicated to fragrance: Iris Pallida. It takes 3 years to turn one ton of fresh Iris Pallida roots into just 50 ml (about 1.7 ounces) of iris absolute, the precious oil used in perfumery
When I bury my nose into an Iris Pallida flower (which is currently blooming in my gardens), I experience the following
- cold
- delicate, fragile
- candy sweetness
- iris
- honey
- soft subtle green (like sweetened moss)
- sugar
- hint of violet
- zero powdery - it sparkles
- sweet earthy cold clover (like the grass)
- newness, something brand new and fresh
- flowery
Notice that my nose doesn't pick up anything warm about an iris flower. This reminds me of why Isabey Gardenia, and JAR Diamond Waters are such incredibly beautiful and superior perfumes: they don't compromise their unique renditions of gardenias and carnations (respectively) by adding the ever marketable, and scent-warming vanilla, amber, or tonka bean additives. Vanilla and amber are not detected in the iris flower (or carnations or gardenias, for that matter) so there is no reason to begin to think along those lines unless of course the perfumer wants to warm and anchor the floral with this sort of basenote.
Another reason we see so much orris (chopped iris roots, not the absolute) mentioned in perfumes is because it's been used for a couple of hundred years as a perfume fixative. Even chopped up and not liquified, orris acts as a fixative to dried potpourri.
Anyway I fell madly in love with my iris flower and wanted to see how the perfumers had lately been treating the dear garden variety iris pallida, in liquid absolute form, as a top and heartnote, so I tested a few iris perfumes. Here is what I found out:
I have spritzed I Profume di Firenze, Iris di Firenze on my right arm. Odd that it smells identical to a fresh bouquet of flowers, including the dewy freshness, watery composition of petals and leaves, the greeness of roots and stems, and the sweetness of the inner iris flower. But the sweetness of the flower seems to be drowned out by the watery green stems. After awhile, that's all I smell! I give this perfume a 1 out of 10 for missing the point.
What the perfumer says: A uniquely green floral fragrance composed with the symbol of Florence - the Iris. Beautifully fresh.
On my right hand I have dotted Hermes Hiris which is beautiful, but forms an artistic rendition of an iris. It's very cubist. I smell coconut, patchouli, spices, and iris; a very complex mix, yet every note is a carefully plotted bold statement. The perfume smells like Kenzo Jungle L'Elephant to me - beloved, but not an iris perfume, per se. This perfume deserves highest honors, but for my purposes, it gets a 5 out of 10 for its lack of resemblance to an iris flower.
What the perfumer says: Hiris is a solifloral fragrance, leant a woody undertone from white iris. Hiris opens on a clear, crystalline top note of neroli, rose and coriander, which hint at the iris to come. The heart fully unveils the iris, with its sweet flowers and warm rhizomes. White and black irises mingle, muted by cedarwood and softened with a subtle feeling of linen. The base notes of ambrette, vanilla bourbon and an almond wood chord blend together for a sensuous, yet tender drydown.
On my left wrist I have Frederick Malle Iris Poudre, which went on like a hairy boar in comparison to a flower, but which has dried down to a definite resemblance to the flower - but it's a little too warm. Or maybe it's my skin that's too warm. Something is too warm about it. I think it is loaded with a vanilla bottom note, which makes the perfume more likeable to a greater market, but which removes the entire outdoorsy quality of its floral nature. This is, I suppose, a more sophisticated perfume that should be worn out in the evening, nowhere near the outdoors. Further, the long it remains on my skin, the more perfumey it becomes. I give it a 5 out of 10 and categorize it with another Frederick Malle: Lipstick Rose, which is something a diva must wear to the opera.
What the perfumer says: Iris expresses raw classical beauty. Tonka bean, musk and vanilla bring softness and warmth, while the base of sandalwood and vetiver adds a melodious resonance. If Pierre Bourdon's IRIS POUDRE were a garment, it would be a cashmere sweater - classic but personal, appropriate for most occasions, something one never tires of. It is a grand floral aldehydic.
Maitre Perfumer et Gantier Fleur d'Iris, on the back of my left hand, is so subtle, my nose has trouble detecting it . . . there it is! It smells like freshly mowed lawn, iris, candy sweetness, a hint of violet, a summer's day. There is even a tiny green quality like one single lily of the valley bellflower. It is not powdery and it's not sharp either. It's a well blended floral. In fact, I think this is very close to the real thing, but it completely lacks the honey, clover, and freshness of the flower, leaving the perfume in a sort of a dead zone. This is a nice perfume, but nothing to write home about. Funny how close it is to the real flower, but completely missing what is most exciting about the real flower. I give this a 6 out of 10 for being a close but boring rendition of iris pallida.
What the perfumer says: It is the association of a green note on the background of Iris root. Young note. It suits well the active and sporty woman and the one that wants a perfume that holds well while retaining a certain discretion.
Maitre Perfumeur et Gantier Iris Bleu Gris (for men)- This edt goes on just like freshly mowed lawn, a calming soft and balsamic green. Then a lovely candy sweetness begins to surface and the scent of the true iris pushes through. There is an uncanny likeness to the real flower but the perfume isn't quite as fresh, as churchy fresh, as the real thing. (You know how a church smells when you first walk in? All the flowers and incense at the same time? That is a real flower smell, like the iris in front of my nose.) Iris Bleu Gris is incensy in that fresh-flowery kind of way, a delicate sugary floral with that ethereal violet note which makes the flower slightly earthy without being funereal. The freshness seems to be a leathery note, which is smooth and yet has a newness to it. I'm going to give Iris Bleu Gris a 7 out of 10 for achieving the smell of a real iris pallida flower.
What the perfumer says: The old Iris root gives an essence, which associated with rare essential oils of wood and aromatic plants, translates into a warm and original fragrance. This blend linked to a leather note makes it the perfume of the tuxedo-wearing man, as well as the speed-loving motorcyclist. Worn at 18 as well as at 50, this eau de toilette is the travel perfume whilst retaining a certain romanticism in its seduction.
Serge Lutens Iris Silver Mist is a smooth cedary perfume with a cinnamon kick. The iris is right there but the rest of the notes kick it up a few notches into a screamingly woody cologne. This is the equivalent of a Mexican fiesta with sequins, stomping heels, and wild mustachioed men playing trumpets all night. It is also so velvety as to resemble a blast of cold incensed air hitting you in the face when you first walk into a cathedral. Later, after it calms down a bit, it turns soapy and loses some of its edge. I give this an 8 out of 10 for being a very exciting and imaginative iris perfume.
The notes: iris roots, cedar, sandalwood, incense, white amber, musk, Chinese benzoin balsam
The Different Company Bois d'Iris provides the sweetness of a real iris, including a honey accord, but the woods make it soft and smooth rather than refreshing and dewy. It is the most beautifully blended of all the perfumes I'm testing today, so that all of its notes present one unified accord. This is a Van Gogh painting of dark irises deep into a sunlit woods; deeply iris and earthy and just loaded with bold strokes of color. I'm going to give this a 10 out of 10 for accurately presenting iris pallida and framing it in woods rather than mixing with woods. It has a je ne sais quoi quality that sets it very far apart from all the other iris perfumes and makes it memorable, unique, and utterly stunning while also remaining closely true to the flower itself. This is without doubt, my favorite of all the iris perfumes, and quite possibly my favorite of all perfumes.
What the perfumer says: The Iris Pallida, the most aromatic of its kind, grows exclusively in this arid, rocky mountain side (of Tuscany), yet where the soil is mild. Unlike the osmanthus flower whose epidermis cells secrete the essential oil, the iris conceals its olfactory wonders within its roots. Olfactory note: Woody, velvety, sweet and green, refind. Main components: iris Pallida (aka Iris Florentina), vetiver, bergamote, cedar wood, narcissus, geranium, musk.
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