. . . the place is in a state of disarray, for, instead of spring cleaning, it's winter cleaning, for, as you know, currently in the midst of some very exciting things that involve a bit of upheaval, and so, this weekend is red wine in cut crystal glasses, films and flower shops and photographs, a romantic dusting of snow on these [cosy] chilly nights, and love, love, love . . .
. . . and the summery things were not packed away, as planned, this past weekend, afternoons spent, rather, in the november sun, and evenings on dinner dates at old favourite places . . . but happily, there is still time, for whites, crisp & warm, have been drifting past summertime to autumn [here & here], and straightinto winter . . .