Day 328: White on White

The title doesn't correspond to the fashion. I am, increasingly, a fashion blogger who never speaks about fashion, or a general-rambling-on blogger who wears outfits and obsesses over outfits and who would consider contents insurance because the cost of replacing her shoes is prohibitive. The loss of unique thrifted or op-shopped clothing is uninsurable and unfathomable. The title is about snow. Although, when you look at the 'fashion' photos, the white dots in this odd, much-loved, new jacket of mine do dominate and pick up the white of the dress. I wish it was snowing here. I have done nothing, zero, zilch, nada! for four days because, for the last four days, this has been the daily high: 42.8, 41.7, 43.9, 43.9. For you in the fahrenheit world that is: 109, 107, 111, 111. That was accompanied by lows of: 28.6 (83), 27.0 (80), 25.6 (78) and, even after the cool change, 21.5 (71). We don't have insulation, let alone air-conditioning. Our wooden box of a house is hotter inside that out. V——'s car temperature after a day of work was 53! (127!) This is weather that makes me cry. If I had some fluid in my body, I would cry. Tears had to be the things that ran down my spine, my face, or pooled in odd places while I just tried to exist my way through the days. I would take snow over this any day of the year!

The second largest canyon in the United States (such a disappointing moniker; if you worked there you would be yelling out 'erode, damn you canyon, erode, you're only thirty-three thousand cubic meters away from losing the 'second') is in the Texas Panhandle. It's called Palo Duro, and it looks amazing. It has a road that goes right down into it, and we (read 'I') thought it would look even more amazing with snow on it, so this morning we headed out on the frozen freeways, secondary roads and farm-to-market roads to see it. Only to find it was closed due to inclement weather. What! How can you close a hole in the ground because of weather? So we played badmington in the car park. Americans are funny. A car stopped to ask if we were okay: our car pulled over in the snow, us out playing with a white shuttlecock in white snow and a wind. 'Yes, we're just playing some badmington.' 'Oh, you got it bad!' What have we got?

The rest of the day was wet, slushy freeways and a not-well travelling companion; sunday football playing during a mexican lunch (cor' how many games play at once!); Buddy Holly's birthplace with no sightseeing about Buddy Holly at all. I went to Savers. V—— waited in the car because he wasn't well. We used the pool and spa again, even though V—— wasn't well. He finds the warmth therapeutic. I am not sure how he justifies the immersion in the cold swimming pool though. This one was really cold. It is a strangely desirable torture. We had dinner in a (bikie?) bar which seemed to have an odd code-gesture required for entry which turned out to be the international sign for ID(?). And then we slept the night away in the best bed of the trip. A quietly and unassumedly pleasant day.

Clockwise from top: Farm-to-Market Road, Texas Panhandle; our car this morning in Amarillo; Badmington at Palo Duro National Park
The Outfit Dress: Op-shopped Jacket: Thrifted, Salvation Army, Santa Fe, New Mexico Charm Bracelet: Fossil Shoes: Irregular Choice 'Can't Touch This'

Photographer de Jour: B——

Who wore it better?

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