Silence please.

Way long time ago, when TC and Kacy and I went to Rome, we visited the Sistine Chapel. While there, we were surprised by the darkness and crowdedness of the room. We were also a little afraid of the stern guards who yelled every 30 seconds, "SILENCE PLEASE." It was alarming. And it was especially alarming when one of the guards marched up to a visitor and demanded that they delete whatever photos they had just taken of the art work or he would confiscate the camera. Bullies those guards were.

Not the Sistine Chapel (of course since I wasn't about to risk being yelled at or risk having my camera taken),
but it was taken in Rome and is lovely, right?

This is the reason for my silence. No, there's not some Italian guard that is yelling at me to be silent, but I've been reflecting, as I did in the chapel, only this time I'm not thinking about paint or artists or Bible stories or on hidden gems of truth found in centuries old paintings, but instead on the last of the gallon of milk, on my impending "retirement," on my dear husband and the demands I put on him constantly, and most of all, I've been reflecting on silence. Sometimes it's good to rest in silence, to observe in silence, to think in silence. So that's what I plan to do this long weekend, to be silent, and observe and reflect. Long weekends are good for that.

I have a fashion forward Friday in the queue for tomorrow morning, which I hope you will enjoy. I went digging through old photos to find pictures that demonstrate my love of clothing from even a young age. Unfortunately there are not all that many photos of me as a child from ages 5-14. I think it has something to do with being the last child of five and also that big stack of film my mom kept on her dresser that was never developed that eventually just went bad and had to be thrown away. Sad.

Happy Memorial Day pre-weekend.