My iPhone wrote this post

I like to think that my particular blogging forte is Deep Thoughts on Shallow Subjects, but I'm a little short on fashion and style thoughts these days. (This will no doubt please the two or three weirdos readers who would rather hear about my life.) Therefore, the following is a version of My Life in Pictures. With commentary. And a minimum of whining.

A few weeks ago, Mr. Buxom and I drove out to Hancock, New York, to watch our kids in a production of Les Miserables.

Here they are being peasants. Miss Buxom's cheeks are extremely red, partly because of the lavish way I applied Chanel's Rouge (from the Fall 2011 Byzantine collection.) But also because she was coming down with walking pneumonia.

After two days of driving from New York, we were greeted by the news that our house, which had been full of painters for five days, was going to be full of painters for Quite a While Longer. The painting, it took much time. The patching, it went on for many days. Only to be followed by the sanding, and the depositing of lavish amounts of plaster dust.

Please notice the lovely soft celadon/light avocado green in my dining room. Also note the Chinoiserie curtains. (Honestly, someone with such Old Lady taste in interior decorating should shut her pie hole about fashion, don't you agree?)

See the trim over the sideboard? It used to be two asymmetrical white rectangles. I asked the painter to make it one big rectangle. Now I can hang art. Or a mirror. Or sconces! Maybe all three! What joy.

Wow, I really need to polish those candlesticks. And put everything back where it belongs.

Study in chocolate

Mr. Buxom's study used to have navy blue wallpaper with a pattern of stars. Now it's painted chocolate brown. I hope bird approves, as Mr. Buxom's study doubles as bird's guest quarters. Please note the dramatic effect of the super dark walls only partially illuminated by the afternoon sun. That, my friends, is Style.

OK, now we're up to a week ago.

On our way to take Miss Buxom to the doctor to hear the bad news about the walking pneumonia (which I've decided to call La Pneumonie Marchante out of free-floating Francophilia, and because she contracted it while she was being a French Peasant, and also because the French pronounce the "P" in "Pneumonie," which amuses me to no end) we discovered that the previous evening's torrential rain storms had caused flooding in my basement. And some destruction of drywall and such.

So. Disease, dust, disaster, distruction ... somehow I'm not doing a lot of shopping.

Thank goodness I'm still in deep, deep love with the bag I bought last April.

I've also fallen down on the grooming front. 

Faux Fuschia, please note that it's not chipped, per se. But it's still revolting.

Ooh-la-la! Those nails are misérables! I desperately need a new Shellac manicure. I've put  off my re-Shellacing due to zee Puh-nee-mo-nie, the painting, and the flooding, but I'll be dealing with it very, very soon.

Because? On Wednesday, we're flying to London.

p.s. The house is still at sixes and sevens, but Miss Buxom is just fine.

Here, there, and everywhere

Oh my lord, people, I have been so busy. We were in Rhode Island yesterday, and then we drove to Massachusetts to have dinner with my bother (HENRY!) in Well-to-do-sly. And then, TODAY I ran all kinds of errands (some of them in Maine) trying to take care of a few last minute things before we leave tomorrow for Illinois (via New York.)

That's a lot of states in a lot of days, and I think it's your duty to be impressed. But let us move on, shall we? Because this entry is starting to sound like one of those dreary educational games my parents used to make us play during dinner so we wouldn't start food fights. (Even though it looks wicked patriotic, what with the red and blue states.)

But my point is, I have been all over the place, and I'll continue to be all over the place in the immediate future, so why don't you try it, too?

Click here to see how Jen Lancaster has won the Barnes and Noble Prize for Literature, and here to see how I think Gwen Stefani spent way too much of her young years watching educational TV.

When she could have been playing geography games around the dining room table, that big loser.