Blinded by the Whites: Part Un

This weekend, summer chose to glance west, and all the ghosts that populate this town responded by turning into cherries through overexposure to the sun. And I love cherries. Bing, not Maraschino. Although that reminds me of the time The Renaissance Man bought me dinner. But that's a story for another time.

To celebrate, I marched in the morning, and then betook myself to a part of town that has more spas and beauty salons per square inch than any other I've ever seen, for a pedicure. After all, those new shoes deserve beautiful feet, non? Kim did a fabulous, quiet, affordable job and I almost fell asleep. Almost. It was reminiscent of the shavasana yesterday morning. And my toes are now cherry-red and ready for those shoes.