On My Mind: Sputnik Charms and Irish Sweaters

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This past weekend served up a seasonal-depression double whammy: Daylight saving ended, and so did the baseball season. (For the record, even though I’m from Southern California, I wasn’t exactly overjoyed at the World Series outcome — no one cheers for Goliath!) All summer long I’d gotten used to the rhythm of coming home, turning on a baseball game, and letting the soothing patter of the broadcasters’ play-by-play wash over me while I kicked back with an Athletic in hand. Now I’m facing the long, dark cold of winter with no crack of the bats, no chanting of the crowd, no jingle of the Liberty Mutual ads … Here’s what I’m using to fill the baseball-shaped void until then.

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On r/baseball, I perused a thread about thebest baseball booksever written, and Roger Angell’s name popped up multiple times; one commenter described him as doing for baseball “what David Foster Wallace did for tennis,” which thoroughly sold me. Angell was a staff writer atTheNew Yorker, and his prose very much follows the house style — sharp and wry and humorous, especially when describing the long-suffering Mets and their even longer-suffering fans. I just finishedThe Summer Gameand will be moving on toFive Seasonsshortly.

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I’ve made my way through multiple Ken Burns documentaries, but never watched his anthology on baseball until now. Having grown accustomed to 45-minute TV episodes on HBO, I completely forgot how long each installment can be —Baseballhas nine episodes total that range from two to two and a half hours in length, so each one is basically a full-blown movie. I’m not complaining, though; if I strategize and pace myself wisely, I can extend my viewing timeline so that I finish right as spring training starts up.

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At a recent house party, I got to talking baseball with a couple fellow fanatics. (This was right around the Mariners–Blue Jays series, and we all agreed we were rooting for the Mariners —sigh.) They also play on a recreational baseball team, and they invited me to join their practice, despite the fact that I haven’t picked up a bat since second grade P.E. I went in with a good-natured attitude, fully expecting to step up to the plate and record one whiff after another, but to my surprise I actually managed to make contact more often than not. Thequalityof the contact, however, was wanting — mostly dribblers and weak grounders. Practices are coming to a close with the chillier weather, but I live within walking distance of a baseball-training complex outfitted with batting cages, so perhaps I’ll work on my swing in the offseason.
Here’s everything else I’ve seen recently …

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I’ve got one final addition to the baby-tee hunt I wrote about in mylast “Strategist Brain“: the Bebe tee from LA Relaxed. The brand caught my eye with its clean-cut, feminine basics, like apointelle camiand a daintycardigan. Since I’m already well-supplied with white tees, I got the Bebe in black and cherry, and the fit is perfect. It’s just the right length with slightly shrunken sleeves, and body-skimming but not skintight. I’m crossing my fingers that the lemon color is restocked soon.
I picked up a very good wool fisherman sweater from the Brimfield North Antique Show a few weeks ago, made by Bonner of Ireland. It’s a cornflower-blue shade speckled with pink-and-orange flecks, and I’ve already received so many compliments on it. I couldn’t find an exact match anywhere on the internet, but here are some other Bonner sweaters that are just as nice.

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I just receivedOffhours’ Homecoatin the mail, and not a moment too soon. I’m a bit of a hothouse flower, to put it nicely, so swaddling myself in this big, plush, comforter-esque robe really does feel like I’m still in bed.

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Mirus Atelier Sputnik Charm
I recently discovered NYC-based jeweler Mirus Atelier and immediately fell in love with the whimsical, antique-inspired designs. I was charmed by an itty-bittyfiligree ringand a nostalgicbubble-wand pendant, but ultimately I have my eye on this retro-futuristic Sputnik orb, which sort of reminds me of an old-fashioned diving helmet. You can customize it, too — I love the idea of setting it with the birthstones of everyone near and dear to me.

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Now is right around the time I’d break out my candle collection, except we recently got anair-quality monitorand it was slightly disconcerting to discover just how much the reading nosedives when you have a candle burning. I went sniffing around for alternatives and stumbled on this “Scent Burner” set from Ripple. You fill a glass vessel with water and a few drops of an essential oil, then let the heat from the tea light diffuse the scent through the room. I realize this system also involves an open flame, but a tiny tea light should be fairly innocuous … right?

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You know how there’s always a go-to pair ofsocksyou reach for first right after doing the laundry? Once I added these ones from Plus Ultra to my sock drawer, they quickly ascended to “preferred pair” status. They transition seamlessly from my daytime loafers and boots to mysneakerinas for dance. They have subtle ribbing, no uncomfortable toe seams, and a very chic triple-striped tab. I don’t have to baby them either, like I do with my Comme Si socks — they go straight into the washer and dryer without losing any elasticity.

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Graeter’s Skyline Spice Ice Cream
When it comes to ice cream, I like to think my palate is fairly adventurous — I’m down to give the gooseberry elderflower a shot over conventional mint chip. The limits of my open-mindedness were nonetheless tested by this Skyline Spice ice cream, a collab between two beloved Cincinnati brands: Graeter’s Ice Cream and Skyline Chili. I appreciate when a brand takes a big swing, though, so I gave it a go and it’s actually really good! The chili’s “secret spice mix” definitely contains cinnamon and allspice, and the result isn’t that dissimilar from a pumpkin-flavored ice cream. The oyster-cracker mix-ins were slightly less successful — there’s simply no way to prevent them from going soggy — but a sprinkling of fresh, crunchy crackers on top could really take it over the top.
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