Gray is the New Gray

I forgot to take my camera (which, as most of you know, is my cell phone) when I went to visit Herr Menrath Friseur today.  I won't make that mistake again, because the next time I visit Herr Menrath ("we do make your fine hairs have both the volume and the curls today") will be my last chance to get my hair did in Germany.  I may even spring for color, just to watch him mix the potions up with a flourish while peering through his spectacles.  Frau Menrath stands beside him and assists with the magic pots while he applies color to his fashionable patrons who are not me because I, on the two occasions per year that my hair actually gets color, apply my own $6.79 L'Oreal.  Because I'm worth it. (picture me saying that just like Andie McDowell, only with a lot less hair and a lot more hips.)

ANYWAY, I was thinking this morning, as I walked across the Neckar River (on a bridge, not like Jesus,) that I'd better be a bit more intentional about photographic preservation of Heidelberg, because we are down to WEEKS before we fly back to the States.  I felt like a child, noticing everything.  There were young moms on bicycles with their shopping baskets perched on the front and their babies strapped behind them; there were elegant ladies in London-ish hats, and heartbreaking beggars in wheelchairs and workmen smoking cigarettes perilously close to the streetcars whizzing by, and bakeries full of bread and pastries, and boutiques with Spring window displays.  The sunshine of the past few days has slipped away, and we're back to gray skies,  cozy but not energizing.

The grayness I noticed today, though, was in a shop window.  A gray sofa with silky cream pillows.  The softest-looking knitted gray throw arranged over it, a sweet pair of black velvet ballet slippers with lavish gray velvet bows.  I never thought of gray as a beautiful color till this season.  Most of the shop windows are popping with red, white and blue for summer, or vibrant coral and turquoise for spring...but here was a luxurious display using a color so understated it's glamorous.

In totally unrelated news,  I'm looking forward to seeing Ree Drummond's new cookbook.  I found The Pioneer Woman's website several years ago when she was just starting to blog, and have enjoyed reading it ever since.  The Girl gifted me with Ree's first cookbook for Mother's Day last year, and I'm sending broad hints for a repeat performance this year.

http://www.amazon.com/The-Pioneer-Woman-Cooks-Frontier/dp/0061997188/ref=sr_1_sc_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1331558


My friend P told me once that the best thing I ever did for her was tell her about The Pioneer Woman.  I think she meant it as a compliment to Ree, but ever since, I've been really insecure about my friendship skills.

While we're on the subject of NOT HAVING ANY SORT OF COMMON THREAD BY WHICH TO TIE TOGETHER THIS POST, I've been noticing that The Girl was really right last fall when she told me the sides of my face look just like harps.  The wrinkles have taken over.  I've been reading about the Clarisonic Mia, which gets great recommendations from people like Melanie who are a solid decade younger than I am, and about this fascinating ritual, but both are currently out of my price range.  Additionally, I'm still looking for a good solution to the "I bought waterproof mascara by mistake and now my chunky gloppy eyelashes are suffering and coming out before they surrender their chunky glops" dilemma.  So, beauty mavens, feel free to dish me your age-defying secrets.  I need you.