Fortunately I don’t have SAD, or whatever that disease is called that makes people want to slit their wrists at the first sign of autumn. But is summer really over? I worked so hard this year to get my skin to the shade of sugared rose petals and bring skin cancer to the party. Now it’s all fading away and I’m questioning everything.
It’s a bit depressing, but this is life. Things start sagging. Seasons change. You pop a few more pills. I truly feel fortunate that this is the glorious sight I get to look forward to as the waning light of winter takes hold. Pepito took this picture while wandering the grounds last New Year’s Eve after an absolutely fabulous fête. He kept yelling that the light was “fe-NOM-inal!” which is what drunk Spaniards yell around 8:00 pm. Yes, it’s beautiful but I do miss my vines.
I’m excited to show you le Château. It’s weathered. Nothing too fancy. Right now everything is covered in dirt, because I’m assembling boxwood wreathes in the salon, and why NOT. There will be one, perfect wink of green in every window come Christmas.