“It can’t be more or less. It’s not like cooking up a kitchen-sink soup.”
Blood Magick
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At home I often make a variation called Kitchen Sink Soup, where everything but the kitchen sink goes into the pot to simmer away. What doesn’t seem like much to begin with can add up to something quite satisfying.
“I’m not as tidy as you.” “Tidy’s such a fussy word, don’t you think?” He gave her an easy smile. “The sort that makes you think of your great-aunt Margaret and her tea cozies.” “I don’t have a great-aunt Margaret.” “If you did, she’d probably be a tidy sort with a tea cozy. I prefer the word organized.” Vision in White
_____________________
You might recognize her name from her highly-popular book
The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. See how she will help clients “spark
joy” as they declutter and organize their homes.
“Confused by closet organizers, I figured why not consult an architect?” “You want an architect—a man—Jack—to organize your closet?” “No, to give me a vision of what to use to organize it.” Emma gave Mac a dubious look. “You’ve now entered Parker territory.” “Maybe, but have you seen her closet? It’s like a layout in a magazine. It’s like what the Queen of England probably has. Without all the odd hats. Jack! Just the man I wanted to see.” He stood in the doorway, tall, clad in jeans, work shirt, and boots—and very male. “I don’t want to come in there. You’re not supposed to touch anything at a crime scene.” “The only crime here is that.” She pointed at her closet. “An empty closet with one stupid bar and shelf. You have to help me.” “I told you we needed to design the closet when we altered the space.” “I was in a hurry back then. Now I’m not. I know I need at least two bars, right—a lower one. And more shelves. Maybe some drawers.” He glanced around. “You’re going to need a bigger boat.” “I’m purging. Don’t start with me.” He walked in, hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Roomy.” “Yes, which is part of the problem. All that room, I’ve felt obliged to fill it. You can make it better.” “Sure I can make it better. A kit from Home Depot would make it better.” “I’ve looked at them. I want something more . . . More.” Vision in White
“Where . . . Oh God, Del, not one of the basements.”
“How many attics and basements are in this place?” Mal whispered to Emma.
“Three attics, two—no, three basements if you count the scary boiler room where the demons who eat the flesh of young girls live.”
“Cool.”
“Sure, if you’re a young boy like Del was.” Emma narrowed her dark eyes as she glared across the table. “But if you’re a young girl playing Treasure Hunt, you could be scarred for life by a certain mean boy with a flashlight with a red bulb, a shambling walk, and a low, maniacal laugh.”
She picked up her wine, shuddered a little. “I still can’t go down there.”
Happy Ever After
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By Paolo Neo - http://www.public-domain-image.com/public-domain-images-pictures-free-stock-photos/photography-studio-public-domain-images-pictures/macro-photography-public-domain-images-pictures/cactus-flower-in-dark-room.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=24916063
With Halloween approaching, we'd love to hear your stories about the creepiest part of your house growing up.
“We’re going to do even better. Let’s try a few in that same pose.”
Warming up now, Mac noted as she chatted Rosa up along with Emma. She tossed in quick directions. Tilt your head to the right, shift your shoulders. Halfway through she handed Rosa one of Emma’s long-stems, tried shots with the flower as a prop.
Vision in White
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By Cary Tse - Imported from 500px (archived version) by the
Brazilian photographer Gilmar Silva put his career on a whole new level when he pulled back the curtain and let the public in on how professional photographers get the shots they're after. His series LUGARxFOTO is an ongoing look at how Silva makes magic right on site, using assistants and simple props to help him deliver the highest quality portrait to his clients.
“She cried. In a good way. Must be a hormone thing. Tears just started rolling down her cheeks and scared the shit out of me. Then she said the best thing.” Mac paused, letting the memory glow inside her. “She said she was never going to think of herself as big and clumsy because she was magnificent.”
“Oh.”
“I know. I got teary myself. She wanted to order right then and there. I had to put her off until I tweak a little.”
“You think all it takes is a key and a driver’s license?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your battery cables were covered with corrosion, your oil was sludge. Your tires were low and your brake pads damn near shot. I bet you slather yourself with some fancy cream every day of your life.”
“Excuse me?”
“But you can’t bother to get your car serviced. Lady, this car was a disgrace. You probably spent more on those shoes than you have on maintaining it.”
A movement caught her eye, and as she turned to follow it she saw the cardinal take its perch on the snow-covered branch of a maple. It sat, a single spot of vivid red, and sang. Mac crouched, zoomed in rather than risk going closer and losing the shot. Was it the same bird who’d smacked into her kitchen window? she wondered. If so, he certainly seemed undamaged and unruffled as he sat like a single flame on the white-laced branch. She caught the moment then, taking three shots in rapid succession, slight changes in angles that coated her jeans with snow as she inched left. Then the bird took wing, swooped over the frozen sea, through the bright light, and was gone. Emmaline, beautiful Emmaline in her old navy coat, white cap and scarf trudged toward her through the snow.
“I wondered how long I’d have to stand there until you finished or the damn bird took off. It’s cold out here.”
Vision in White
_____________________
As temperatures dip, look no further than your backyard
to see how full of life this blustery season truly is.
He opened it carefully, peeling up the tape and flapped ends. And took out the photograph matted in a simple black frame. Against the black and white of snow and winter trees, the cardinal sat like a living flame.
“It’s wonderful.”
“It’s nice.” She studied it with him. “One of those lucky breaks. I took it early yesterday morning. It’s no bellycrested whopado, but it’s our bird, after all.”
Those with a steadfast commitment to the couch potato lifestyle may be onto something after all. According to a new study published in the Sage Journal of Health Psychology, people who will find any excuse to skip the gym have higher levels of a trait called “need for cognition,” or a “tendency to engage in and enjoy effortful cognitive endeavors,”according to the researchers. In other words, those who lack any sort of athletic ability may make up for it in intelligence and a general love for deep thinking.
"I don't know. I need to think. It's complicated. He's a friend. Our friend. And he's Del's best friend. Del's your brother," she said to Parker, "and the next thing to a brother to the rest of us. And we're all friends, and business partners. Del's our lawyer, and Jack helps out when we need him. Plus he's designing the remodeling. We have all these connections, and they're all tangled up."
"And nothing tangles up the tangles like sex," Mac put in.
"Exactly. What if we end up having this thing, then the thing goes south. Then we're awkward with each other, and that makes the rest of us awkward with the rest of us. We have a kind of balance, don't we? Sex isn't worth upsetting the balance."
"You wouldn't be doing it right then," Mrs. Grady commented, and shook her head. "Youth thinks
too damn much. I'm going to start the wash."
Emma sulked over her pancakes. "She thinks I'm being an idiot, but I just don't want anyone to get hurt."
"Then set the ground rules going in. What you each expect from each other, and how you'll handle any complications."
"What kind of ground rules?"
Parker shrugged. "That's for you to decide, Em."
Bed of Roses
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By Nina from Australia (Friendship) [CC BY 2.0
(http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
The big fear about falling in love with a friend is that if the relationship goes bad, you're down both a boyfriend and a friend who might have comforted you through the breakup. It's a big risk, but when it goes right, it pays off big time. Falling in love with a best friend can be the best thing in the world. We all know the best boyfriends are the ones that feel like best friends you get to kiss, anyway.
Resigned, Emma let out a sigh and decided she wouldn't wait for Jack to have a glass of wine. The trouble with friends, she thought as she went to the kitchen, was they knew you too well. Sex date, foreplay music, sexing underwear. No secrets among… She stopped with the bottle in hand. Jack was a friend. Jack knew her very well. Wouldn't he…? What if he…? "Oh, shit!" She poured a very large glass of wine. Before she could take the first sip, she heard the knock on her door. "Too late," she murmured. "Too late to change a thing. Time to see what happens, and deal with it." She set the wine down, went to the door. He'd changed, too, she noted. Khakis instead of jeans, a crisp shirt instead of a chambray. He carried a large take-out bag from her favorite Chinese restaurant, and a bottle of her preferred cabernet. Sweet, Emma thought. And certainly another advantage of being friends. Bed of Roses
“Breath, makeup, hair,” Emma announced as she flipped out a pocket mirror.
Mini Altoids were passed, lipstick freshened.
Four pairs of shoes were slipped onto four pairs of feet.
And Parker finally hung up the phone.
Vision in White
____________________
(up with it girl)
(rock with it girl)
(show dem it girl)
(bounce with it girl)
(dance with it girl)
(get with it girl)
Come on, come on, turn the radio on
It's Friday night and it won't be long
Gotta do my hair, put my makeup on
It's Friday night and it won't be long
____________________
At two A.M. Mac crawled back into the limo, and sprawled.
“I came to have fun with my best
pals in the land, and said mission was accomplished. God, do we have any water in here?”
Laurel passed her a bottle, then groaned.
“My feet. My feet are screaming like voices of the damned.”
“I had the best time.” Emma slid onto the limo’s side bench and pillowed her head on her hands. “We should
do this once a month.”
Parker yawned, but tapped her purse.
“I have two new contacts for vendors, and a potential client.”
And so, Mac thought as the limo streamed north, we each define ourselves.
She toed off her now very painful
shoes, shut her eyes, and slept the rest of the way home.
Miranda was right, she thought as she keyed in all the details. She was going to have the most amazing wedding.
An abundance of flowers, a contemporary look with romantic touches.
Candles and the sheen and shimmer of ribbons and gauze. Pinks and whites with pops of bold blues and greens for contrast and interest. Sleek silver and clear glass for accents. Long lines, and the whimsy of fairy lights.
Bed of Roses
____________________
By domdomegg (Own work) [CC BY 4.0
(http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
When it comes to designing your wedding, it’s just as important to discuss how your event designer or florist will light the ceremony and reception as it is to talk about what flowers will adorn each dinner table.
Celebrity planner Colin Cowie tells Yahoo Style that lighting can totally transform the space.
“This year, brides are paying extra attention to this décor element, and the results are illuminating,” he says.
"Why?" From her prone position, Emma threw up her hands.
"Who says? Who decided that people all of a sudden have to do miles every damn day, or that twisting themselves into unnatural shapes is good for them? I think it's the people who sell this hideous equipment, and the ones who design all the cute little outfits like the one you're wearing."
Emma narrowed her eyes at Parker's slate-colored cropped pants and perky pink and gray top.
"How many of those cute little outfits do you own?"
"Thousands," Parker said dryly.
"See? And if they hadn't convinced you to do miles and twist yourself into unnatural shapes—and
look good doing it—you wouldn't have spent all that money on those cute little outfits. You could've donated it to a worthy cause instead."
"But these yoga pants make my ass look great."
"They really do. But nobody's seeing your ass but me, so what's the point?"
When it happened, it happened as much inside Mac as out.
Her three friends were grouped under the lush white curve of the arbor, a triangle of pretty young girls. Some instinct had Mac shifting her position, just slightly, tilting the camera just a bit. She didn't know it as composition, only that it looked nicer through the lens.
And the blue butterfly fluttered across her range of vision to land on the head of a butter yellow dandelion in Emma‟s bouquet. The surprise and pleasure struck the three faces in that triangle under the white roses almost as one.
Mac pressed the shutter.
She knew, knew, the photograph wouldn't be blurry and dark or fuzzy and washed out. Her thumb wouldn't be blocking the lens. She knew exactly what the picture would look like, knew her grandmother had been wrong after all.
Maybe happy ever after was bull, but she knew she wanted to take more pictures of moments that were happy. Because then they were ever after.
Vision in White
__________________
Photograph
Ed Sheeran
We keep
this love in a photograph
We made
these memories for ourselves
Where our
eyes are never closing
Hearts are
never broken
Times
forever frozen still
__________________
“It doesn't matter. That's the point. It doesn't matter that my mother is my mother, or that things don't always work exactly the way you thought they should. Moments matter. I know that better than anyone, but I never let it apply to me. Not to me. People matter, how they feel, how they connect, who they are alone and together. All that matters, no matter how quickly the moment passes. Maybe because it passes. What matters is you're the blue butterfly.”
“I'm . . . what?”
“Come on, Professor. Dr. Maguire. You know all about metaphors and analogies and symbolism. You flew into my life, just landed in it unexpectedly. Maybe miraculously. And the picture formed. It just took me a while to see it.”
“I'm not . . . Oh, the picture. Wedding Day, the one you took when you were a girl.”
“Epiphanies. I had one then, and I had one tonight. I want this.”
