Returning to my spiritual homeland

Since S posted about moving back to Oklahoma last week, you might think that I am waxing philosophical about returning to the place where I grew up. 

You would be WRONG. 

Oklahoma was my home, but my spiritual homeland it is not.

The royal goings-on have me thinking about the land of (nearly all) my ancestors.

 

Eight years ago (eight!?) I stepped off a train in London and thought, "I'm home!"  I love Great Britain.  I want to live there for a bit eventually and (don't tell my mom) give my kids the opportunity to spend some of their growing up among the British.  S isn't as committed to this dream as I am, but I'm working on him.

In the meantime, I am excited to finally embrace my British sensibilities when it comes to my appearance.  Tailored jackets, simple frocks, subtle jewelry, being a brunette...Princess Kate, you inspire me to be me.  I mean, I adore this outfit.

This outfit says "RENEE!!! WEAR ME!"

So I cleaned out my closet.  I got rid of 2.5 garbage bags of ill-fitting, slovenly clothes to make way for this outfit.

Do you want to know what else I like about Catherine, Duchess of Blahdiblah?  Her eyes are starting to get a little wrinkly.  You wouldn't mistake her for a 60-year-old, obviously, but she's also not passing for 16.  Do you know why I like this?  Not because I am mean-spirited, because I am starting to get wrinkly around my eyes.  Yay for being 29!

So thanks, Kate, for helping me embrace my inner British lady and my almost-30-year-old eyes.

But do you know the REAL reason that I am secretly British at heart?  I LOVE HATS.  I LOVE them.  Whenever I see hats I must put them on my head and try to invent reasons why I would wear them absolutely everywhere.  I adore hats.  When my friend Carrie gave me a cameo ring she said, "I chose this one for you because she's wearing a hat."  My spiritual homeland would have to include magnificent hats. 

How could you not love this?  I want it on my head.  And in my heart.