a desert fete

I should probably be so embarrassed that I only took 2 photos this weekend that I skip the post all together, but what can I say. I have little shame. If I told you all that I didn't even leave the bedroom on Saturday that would only slightly be an exaggeration. I spent the day cleaning out every closet, dresser, box, drawer and shelf I could get my hands on, major purging time. My bed being the center of sorting action while a Bones marathon ran on netflix watch instantly.

The belt buckles are the last of what (between Ben and myself) used to be a vast collection. Though we don't really wear them much any more, these are the four I couldn't stand to part with. The roses, cause they were my first buckle. The scrimshaw unicorn? I don't know, I thought it was so completely epic and awesome in the day. I'd rather be flying, because my dad is a pilot, and I always loved wearing it and being a daughter. And sometimes, you just want to wear your husband's (ok, then boyfriend's) name on your belt. All four survived the harsh cleanse that happened on my jewelry box, even though I don't remember the last time I wore one.

Sunday the organizing continued, but not without first spending the morning reading in bed (with a kitty and a chocolate croissant), and a break in the afternoon for Harry Potter with Ben. When did those Weasley Twins become so attractive? Who knew?