Warm Style for a Rainy, Chilly Day. . .

Cool, wet weather gear without a nylon rain hat or pair of ugly Birckenstock sandals worn with socks in sight. As Cheryl Crow might sing, "This ain't no country club. This ain't Seattle after all."

Yesterday was a wet one in my neck of the woods, and I prefer not to wear the really good shoes when it's like that. So, out came a pair of Johnston Murphy loafers, which, while not Allen Edmonds by any stretch of the imagination, don't look too bad with more casual ensembles. I almost got rid of these plasticy reverse grain leather shoes a year or so ago, but that I realized that a foul weather go-to shoe might be a good idea for those times when L.L. Bean duck shoes just don't cut it. The combination shown above included:

* Land's End corduroy sports jacket (purchased new in November 2003)
* Land's End cotton button-down shirt (on sale)
* No-name silk necktie (thrifted)
* No-name Italian silk pocket square (thrifted)
* Corbin wool flannel pants (thrifted)
* Land's End braided leather belt (on sale)
* Johnston Murphy loafers (thrifted)
* Socks (purchased new at Target in 2011)

A bit busy, perhaps, but the dark, chocolately brown jacket and tan pants seemed to keep everything else in check (no pun intended), especially when I stood, and the socks were hidden from view. At any rate, the ensemble did finally receive the coveted wifely approval, which ain't easy since my wife has, apparently, inherited her father's fear of any color or pattern at all. Sheesh! Talk about a monochromatic approach to life, the universe, and everything. As my maternal grandmother used to say to my grandfather when she teased him, "Oh, come on, Dave. Live a little!"

-- Heinz-Ulrich

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Up North Style. . .

Bad Dad makes a friend. YMP and Bad Dad on the shores of Lake Michigan. Or was that Crystal Lake? The Grand Duchess takes a selfie in her kayak. How NOT to impress the girls sunning themselves along the river. YMP and Bad Dad kayaking on the Platte River headed toward Loon Lake. J ust back from a week in Northern Michigan in a charming and spacious house on the banks of the Betsie River outside of Thompsonville. A largely pleasant seven days despite some challenging episodes with the Young Master, who has picked up some very questionable habits and language from his friends in the 8th Grade during the school year just ended. But otherwise, we enjoyed ourselves and contemplated remaining for a few days longer since the house was available. In the end, we decided to return home as planned originally since neither my wife, nor I wanted to spend the remaining days chained to our computers in Zoom meetings from our vacation destination. I actually managed to leave the laptop and ip

Mid-June Thursday Style. . .

A nother pretty typical variation on the theme for late spring, summer, and very early fall. I'm a huge fan of Madras and have several such shirts in the seasonal rotation. Lightweight, exceedingly comfortable, and even dressy when pressed and tucked in, which is the usual way of things here at Totleigh in the Wold. Now, if I had my druthers, I'd still rather be skiing the trails in the upper half of "The Mitten" (of Michigan), in the Upper Peninsula, or Ontario. But summers ain't so bad either, and I'd look pretty funny walking around in cross-country ski attire during June. -- Heinz-Ulrich

A Lazy Saturday at the End of June. . .

A sleepy first half of the weekend here at Totleigh. Warmer and quite humid ahead of an approaching cool front here in Mid-Michigan. Perfect for yet another pair of chino shorts an a seersucker shirt -- tucked in of course -- with the usual leather deck shoes and ribbon belt. Otherwise, not much accomplished beyond a page or so of writing and monkeying around with audio settings for an upcoming podcast episode. However, I was not completely useless yesterday! I made a huge fruit salad for dinner, which the Grand Duchess and I enjoyed a short while later at the table on the back porch. The Young Master, as is his wont on Saturday evenings, took his dinner on a tray in the TV room upstairs where he whiled away a couple of hours on Flight Simulator, flying some sort of commercial airliner to some destination across the Atlantic or Pacific. I would have loved that sort of technology at about nine or 10 way back during the late 1970s, aka The Stone Age. As it is, my sister and

Classic Style

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