Root Shoot Marry #19: Beau Brummel.

Oh.Be.Still.My.Almost.Officially.Middle-Aged.Heart.

These two are simply too pretty to have only one showing this week.



So, themewise, you're stuck with it this sunny Sydney Saturday (ok, the weather was shitty here most of the day but the alliteration is irresistible).

You can blame half of it on Jane Henry, (Comment:Actually I think Jeremy has aged better then Anthony... AND I would definitely have rooted him!)

and the other half on Joke. (Comment: I was admiring the raiments, myself. )

Upshot is, you get to cliff, shag or marry a fop tonight.

I'm eliminating Anthony Andrews/Sebastian Flyte and Jeremy Irons/Charles Ryder (above) because you have had too long to think about them.

Trouble is, the nature of fops being what it is, I'm struggling to come up with parallel girl versions this week, so I am hoping that male players like Joke, and the Prof, and Muzbot and maybe even Mr Blue Moon Girl will feel they can play along based on the clothing aspect alone this week - fellas?

(btw, guys, am open to girl suggestions to be covered in an edit - let me know what your period-costume suggestions are and your wish shall be granted)

EDIT: SEE BELOW. Joke: wish granted, and thanks for the inspiration. One of them was even born in the right church for you: although maybe to the wrong political party?


So first up tonight we have a thoroughly modern fop - of the cad and bounder variety:

Jude Law, The Talented Mr Ripley



Second fop, more of a classic, Robert Redford in The Great Gatsby:



Although he looks more convincingly foppish here with Mia/Daisy:



Third fop, Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge:




There they are, and they've defied not one, but two Blogger crashes tonight so I think they were, as we say, meant to be.

And continuing with the above edit, once Joke suggested Grace (with that bizarre noun I can't even bring myself to type) the other two were obvious.

Jackie


Audrey


Pick a root, pick a shoot, pick a marry. Roger someone's delectable arse off. Or just quibble about his choice of collar.

mtc
Bec

In which we note that life is a beach: or, if it's not, it should be.

I have a confession.

Remember my slow-down resolution back here?

I fucked up.

At the start of this week I gave the verandah, stairs, outdoor table and some of the chairs a double dose of decking oil*; baked bread - twice; sewed a new dress for the Pea Princess to match the one I made for her little sister last week** and to add to the curtains, pillow, other dress and nightgown I sewed for PP over the weekend, and finished a fabric wall hanging to go above the marital bed.

After three days of this I had an aching back, builder's tan marks and had started grouching at pretty much everyone. I remembered I was supposed to be on holidays.

So now I am.

This morning we dropped the Gorgeous Boy and Sparkle at daycare and PP and I made like convicts and headed for Botany Bay.

Have you ever noticed how often nature just poses for you at the beach?

Have you ever seen a seagull doing yoga?

Sparkle had given the Pea Princess a floatie boatie thing for Christmas: it was launched today with great success.

Floatie Boatie Thing

That should work as an album.



There is always excellent people-watching to be had at the beach.



When I'm her age I want to be that comfortable in my skin. (Albeit, I'd like to be just a bit smaller, please).

I read my new book. Simple, classic, spooky, not at all up-himself, and able to be purchased for a mere $5.95. Oh how I love thee, Henry James.



(And, look here, all you book bloggers are giving me feelings of inadequacy verging on intimidation lately! I got the chance to browse for a couple of hours in Shearers on Norton this week while Pea Princess spent her school book prize [ahem, duxed her Year 3/4 class including all the year 4 kids who are 18mths older than her] and could not make a decision about anything without intrusive thoughts like "is that the one Nutmeg said was great?" or "didn't Lazy Cow say that was a waste of time?" or "wonder if Suse has read that?" or "I know Babelbabe mentioned this one but as a best or a worst? AAargh!")(Hence: Henry James as my 'new' book)

Finally, of course, we built a sandcastle.

We came home via the fish and chip shop. Yum. We are now browner, cleaner and happier than we've ever been in 2007. We plan to do it every day*** the weather allows this month.

In keeping with slow and satisfying resolutions, Root Shoot Marry will appear on Saturday this week. And thanks to Jane Henry for her inspiration for this week's RSM theme...

mtc (which, yes, stands for more to come, as in old newspaper reporter code, discussed somewhere here previously, but I can't remember where!)

bec

*Anyone who has done deck oil will know how much is involved in this. And for anyone who has not done deck oil? My advice is stay innocent.

**I have to put on the record that - even as mother of twins - I have NEVER dressed my kids in matching outfits, but the possession of two pretty pink dresses made big and little sister giggle, so it was worth it.

*** Every day that Sparkle is in daycare anyway, since, on New Year's Day, the Gorgeous Boy's massive skull bounced down on the trampoline just as her arm bounced up - leaving her with a buckle fracture in a fibreglass plaster that can go in water but can't go to the beach...

I know it's terribly wrong but...

I cannot help but love this:
















I know.

It's so wrong.

But I can't help it.

Anyone else with a soft spot for Sebastion and his teddy?

mtc

Bec

ps - playing on the Ovation Channel. Heaven in non-ratings season.
pps - oh crap, last edit, I promise for those with bloglines: it's Brideshead Revisited in case the pic doesn't do it for you - Evelyn Waugh's second best book (after Scoop).