I’m thinking aloud about my spring clothes this week. Looking for new ways to wear what’s in my closet. Analyzing what works, and what doesn’t. And why.

Sometimes I don’t want a deep and meaty book. I just want a book that is charming, well written, and lovely.

I’ve been shopping for pieces that go anywhere, with everything in my closet. What my friend calls “passe-partout” pieces.

What signals the arrival of spring where you live?

I think I know my own style, what it is, and what it isn’t. But describing it to someone else can be tricky.

How does one show empathy in the face of someone else’s pain? One way is never, ever to say “at least.”

My navy Veronica Beard suit works and works and works for me. And now I’ve found the perfect hoodie to make it work even harder.

When you read, and listen to, and watch three great mysteries in the same week, that’s called Mystery Lovers’ Nirvana.

I wear turtlenecks in fall and winter, but somehow never think of turtlenecks for spring.

I’m on a quest to expand my horizons with respect to jeans. And it ain’t going too well, my friends.

I’m inspired by my trip to the Ottawa Antique & Vintage Market to go vintage treasure hunting again this spring.

I’m making small but important steps towards spring this week. Spring coats. Shoes instead of boots. Hot cross buns.

Being read to is one of life’s small pleasures. And shouldn’t be abandoned just because we’re not children anymore.

I’ve been pushing the season. Trying to wear my spring clothes. But Mother nature pushed back. Sigh.

Spring smells like mud where I live. The glorious, much anticipated smell of melting snow and bare ground. The harbinger of marble season.