Tweed and Cords Thursday. . .

Not exactly chilly here in Mid-Michigan yesterday, but pleasantly cool and gray. Perfect weather for breaking out the tweed and cords along with the gunboats for the feet. A not unpleasant combination of items resulted I think.

Frustratingly, I noticed when I changed into pajamas before dinner yesterday evening that I had failed to turn the wool socks right side out when last they were washed, so they are inside out here. Not a huge tragedy as things go, but the already subtle pattern is less pronounced than might be hoped in the third photograph.

Picked up a couple of suits from the tailor today, and dropped off a few pairs of dress corduroy pants for minor alterations. The waists must be taken in two inches on three pairs, and a full three inches on the fourth. The latter fit comfortably when purchased two years ago, but they fall off me now.

The end result of almost 13 months of eating less, exercising more, and really watching calorie intake most days. Advice given to me by my doctor in 1999 when I had a physical prior to leaving for a Fulbright year in Norway. Solid council on her part.

A shame it took so long for me to take concrete steps toward losing it and, more important, keeping it off. Certainly a challenge over 50, but not impossible either.

-- Heinz-Ulrich

A Friday Evening P. S.

I spent a couple of hours later this afternoon moving spring, summer, and early fall items down to the cedar closet in the (fully finished) basement and moving late fall, winter, and early spring things upstairs. In addition, I took the opportunity to weed out a variety of suits, jackets, blazers, and pants from the rotation.

All are things that I either have not worn for two or more years, or they are not favorite items. Almost a closet full of stuff that is now bagged up in two large bundles for donation.

Hopefully, these clothes will find homes with men who need (and will actually wear) dressier items. Once in a while.

The pessimist in me suggests this will be almost never given the way society has gone the last 30 years or so. The global pandemic has not helped either.

But a guy can dream, right?

In any case, the two and a half closets where my things hang, depending on the season, now have considerably more space for what I have kept. And that means not only will it be easier to find what I am after on a given day, but everything will be less squashed and less wrinkled.

H-U

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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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