i have heard the mermaids singing, each to each

Spring would be complete if i had these shoes. Finally, some ankle boots that make me want to climb aboard. They remind me of drop-waist '30s dresses and Edwardian-era English countryside picnics.

You know how when you see an item of clothing, you envision what kind of person you could be inside the design, what kind of things you would do and read and see? Well I really would go on an English countryside picnic in these shoes. I would head to the outskirts of Cambridge, just like I did years ago when I studied there for a summer, I would bring a blanket to sit on and read Forster or Eliot, recalling the tears that sprung into my professor's eyes during seminar when he discussed Eliot's fellow Symbolist poet Jules LaForgue's untimely death. How lovely and strange it is to be in a land where these writers can spring back to life, either via professorial tears or in the literary-sodden landscape.

Oh, I can't wait for spring, picnics & sunny days & spring...

{listen to t.s. eliot read his magnificent 'the lovesong of j. alfred prufrock' here}

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells