Because John is not here to tell it to, I am telling it to you. It started fine, early, but fine. My daughter got up at 3 a.m. and never went back to sleep. I of course didn’t find that out until 6:30 when I got up. She seemed fine, not sleepy at all! I dropped her off at a friend’s house for the day and went to the mall! Where I met a friend of mine and we shopped and shopped. All I had to show for it was a few t-shirts and a phone conversation with the hotline operator at Eddie Bauer, who promised to send me my stuff in 7-10 days. Turns out EB doesn’t sell longer legs to fit their pants, but they do sell petite sizes. I would totally pay for shipping on longer legs. Pants are easier to mail and so they ship free.
A huge suburban mall and a dismal shoe situation. We must not speak of this anymore though. The good news is that the exact same sandal I’ve been wearing for at least 4 years is still being sold! I’m tired of it but didn’t find anything else. Whoops, wasn’t going to speak of it.
I will mention that it’s becoming increasingly important to take a friend shopping. Someone who will give an honest opinion. This is how it goes: you find a garment you like, you try it on. Let’s say it fits (first major hurdle), in that you can zip it, button it, breathe in it, etc. Now, just because it fits doesn’t mean it’s a good choice. Maybe it is a little too low cut. Maybe it gives you the muffin top. Maybe it makes your neck look short. There are so many variables, many of these you could probably figure out alone…but the worst one? It makes you look like a muumuu wearing Florida resident. Yes, it’s true. A lot of stuff out there is either for women on Medicare or for your adolescent daughter. The upshot is, if you want to feel young, you just have to step into Coldwater Creek or Chico’s and be thankful you have a friend who doesn’t want you to dress like your grandmother. They were playing Neil Diamond in the J. Jill store and I was a little concerned they were trying to appeal to a certain demographic. “Sweet Caroline, good times never felt so good.” Does that song ever bring back the memories…of 1978! Me and mom with our Dorothy Hamill hair…I should scan in that picture for a good laugh.
I did find some stuff at Sephora, my new favorite store ever. I get a little paralyzed in there, though, because all the stuff starts to look the same. I bought a bronzer! I picked one out from the 50 different kinds (the same kind I had used a sample of). Now if you see me and I look tan and well rested, you’ll know why. (Just now I was going to write about the summery eye shadow I still have even though at first I hated it and thought no one over 21 should wear it, and I couldn’t believe I was writing about eye shadow on Scriptus, so I’m not going to write about that.)
I finally went and picked up the girl, a little burnt on the nose and cheeks, and very, very tired. She went to bed at 7:30. Ahhh…the good old days. I tried to explain to her that next time she gets up in the middle of the night she should go back to sleep.
And another highlight of my day: I was pulled over for running a stop sign. I know, me who drives like your grandma. I completely didn’t see it. I did see it later, though, the second time I went through the intersection. Funny how this ticket is less money than a speeding ticket, but seems way more dangerous. Also interesting is how you can pay a “surcharge” within 20 days and get the points off your license reduced by half. (I still don’t understand that whole system). It seems like a totally legal bribe. Which of course I am taking.
The cat is acting funny, she misses John too. Things just aren’t right when he’s not here…even if the grass looks nice. She jumped up on the computer desk and sat herself down in front of the keyboard and started purring. We all miss him. And Bubba, who forgot his jammies for camp. Heh. That’s not as big a problem when you’re a guy.
I also ordered some more skirt patterns, as it seems lately I am obsessed with making skirts. I also found a good fabric store…The Great American Quilt Factory. My mother-in-law told me about it a long time ago, but she made it sound like it was waaaayyy across town, when in fact it’s very close to church and John’s office, all things considered. I might go tomorrow. It’s calling to me. I even know the very fabric I want to get, Day and Night by Robert Kaufman. It’s crazy how there are famous fabric designers. This store is getting the entire Midwest Modern line from Amy Butler in August. Be still my beating heart.
So that’s my day. Tomorrow is scissor and knife sharpening day at Jo Ann fabrics. I will be impressed if they can sharpen my mother’s pinking shears (especially because then I won’t have to buy new ones). I’m also going to have her sewing shears sharpened and give them to Carolyn. I have true left-handed shears which are still very sharp. I also have several other scissors and kitchen knives to sharpen. Hopefully I’ll be able to sleep given all this excitement. Sharp scissors and maybe fabric on the same day. Did I mention I need a margarita?
Still, though. I feel very accomplished. Many times I like to think of myself as an idea person. Like yesterday, when what I had planned for dinner didn’t sound appealing all of a sudden, but grilled pizza did! So I took the stuff I was going to put in the orzo (tomatoes, zucchini, goat cheese, onions, roasted red pepper) and put it on a pizza. Actually, John put it on a pizza, as the grill is usually his domain. Besides, the hard part, thinking of an actual entree, was done. It turned out fabulous.
Then there’s today. I had the great idea that John needed to mow the lawn! Except he didn’t have time, as he spent a lot of time grilling pizza yesterday and then was whisked away with William to a Cub Scout camp. It’s only 48 hours, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t take enough stuff. (Note the sarcasm?) Then I had another idea. I will mow the lawn! All by myself! We’ve lived here over ten years and all this time I’ve mowed it less than once. One time I made John show me how to work the mower just in case something ever happened to him (the same reason I made him tell me the secret recipe to his really good margaritas the other night. Would hate to have anything happen to him and not be able to make a decent margarita. Or mow the lawn). So I mowed the front, mowed half of the back, and then the mower died.
And the two men I admire most caught an SUV for scout camp, and there I was, the day the mower died. I refused to be daunted (and I was already sweating, I mean glistening) and got the dang gas tank myself. I think John didn’t pour it all in like he usually does because he had an issue with the spout. Well, the gas tank really likes me, I must be purtier than John, as it had no leaks or spills at all. The petroleum whisperer, that’s me.
And then three ten year old girls came over for a book club with my daughter, to discuss some book about a girl named Clementine, and eat orange creamsickles. The end.
P.S. I could use a margarita. And maybe some nachos.
what happened to me, I am here. Somehow the days go by, filled with dinner and dishes and hairballs. The children are taking a few tennis lessons this summer, much more enthusiastic about that than fencing. We watched pretty much the entire U. S. Open golf tournament, and today William tells me he wishes we had cable. I asked what he would watch, and he said he would watch the first nine holes of the playoff. I didn’t bother to tell him there’s an entire golf channel. Plus, I still don’t get the whole golf thing. My dad was in La Jolla watching the Open, but their plan was to leave Monday, so I am not sure if he delayed it so he could watch the playoff. One thing’s for sure, you would think that with all the money spent on golf, they could find some better commentators. The Monday ones were better than the weekend ones.
The garden is alright, the cat has not returned, but neither has the sun. It’s been one day of hot and windy and three days of chilly lately. I know it’s only mid June but I predict snow in three months so these plants better get a move on.
Today I took the children and drove down to the Sears store at Cherry Creek. They have a Lands End store there. It creeps me out to even enter a Sears, they are identical to how they looked in 1982 when they refused my mother a credit card to buy a new stove for her newly purchased house (you know, back in the days when people with a good job and credit history were actually denied credit), and she swore she’d never buy anything from them again. And she never did. And I, continuing to carry her grudge, haven’t either. Even after I met John, whose family believes the sun rises and sets on Kenmore appliances, I was steadfast. He being the reasonable person that he is, allowed me to insist on getting our stuff from Best Buy. Then Sears had to go and buy Lands End, and I’ve had guilt ever since. So. They do have a few things that I like that are impossible to find elsewhere, like plain ole short sleeve solid color sweaters. I almost ordered them but after tax and shipping (and tax on the shipping), knowing I would have to send some stuff back, I thought I’d just go try it on and save some trouble.
William loathes clothes shopping, even for himself. He is not a whiner, though, and I rarely go shopping even without him, so I figured he could suck it up and join the legions of bored children before him who had to shop with their mothers. Plus I told him to take a book and I offered him a McFlurry afterward if he cooperated.
So we drive down there, and it’s about 30 minutes away. I found the parking garage, found the Lands End store and thought I must have been on the wrong floor. Surely they had to have had more stuff. But no. The sweaters in question were not there, even though 6 weeks ago the store was packed with them. (I tried to shop that day, with John, but it was still spring and even though it was 80 degrees outside, they still had the heater on and I was about to suffocate, so we left, after complaining.) All that driving for nothing. But at least I got to pay $2 for parking. I’m pretty sure the quality of their stuff has declined since Sears took over. Hmph.
I did have a good idea, though, driving behind a wimpy hybrid car: there ought to be some kind of cruise control that automatically kicks in when a person starts using their cell phone. I don’t care if they drive slow, but the speeding up and slowing down really annoys me. Two times the hybrid waited to the last second to merge in front of me and each time I let her in, but the stupid back window was so small I couldn’t tell if she gave me the thank you wave. (I very much believe in the importance of the thank you wave.) I’m guessing no, because when I passed her she was yakking on her phone.
We finally made it to the golden arches. I had a buy one get one free Mcflurry coupon, plus a $1 certificate. Even with those I paid $4 for three small ice creams. They were so small I had to squint to find them. Back in the day they were large! And practically free! I know it’s been a million years since I bought ice cream at McDonald’s, but it looks like it might be another million before I go back. Ouch.
I am bummed about the shopping, but I feel a little wiser. Too bad wisdom doesn’t match my blue skirt.
John is a big Nero Wolfe fan, having read many of the novels, and now we own the DVD series from A&E. Nero Wolfe is a genius private detective in NYC ca. 1940s-50s. Archie Goodwin is Nero’s right hand man, smart in the ways that Nero is not. This series was written by a man named Rex Stout. I have no idea if that was a pen name or not, but given the names of the author and the genius detective, you have a clue about the men in the stories. Nero cannot stand an hysterical (aka crying) woman. It’s really a pretty funny series, with great clothes and lots of cars with chrome.
We were watching an episode last night, “Die Like a Dog” where a dog follows Archie home. He thinks it will annoy Wolfe, but Wolfe warms to the dog immediately and begins to wax nostalgic about a dog he had as a boy. Now, do you remember your first beloved pet? Maybe it was a dog…loyal, true, stinky, slept on your bed, whatever. Maybe it was a cat…furry, soft, full of personality, etc. Perhaps you get a little wistful when you think of this pet, remembering how much you liked it. But Nero Wolfe? The man is not capable of wist. To describe his beloved boyhood dog, he says, “I don’t recall the dog having a defect.”
And that is the difference between Nero and everyone else. While most of us find our pets’ quirks endearing, the best Nero can do is to note a lack of defects. Pfui.
Some gardeners have to deal with rabbits, or raccoons, or tomato worms, or maybe even deer. Me? My biggest problem so far this year is the neighbor’s cat. Just as I feared, it has found my garden. It called to the cat…and the cat answered. But so did I. I sprayed some stuff called Critter Ridder on the dirt. It has oil of black pepper and other capsaicin substances. Supposedly one spray is good for a month. I also sprayed by the sunflowers, the other preferred potty spot. Lousy cat.
This is easier than driving down to pick up a trap then driving back to deliver the offending animal. Although I did see a trap for sale at Home Depot. That could be fun…
Somehow I feel like one of those movies…the kind where the bumbling homeowner constantly combats invasive pests, losing each time, but amusing the audience nonetheless.
I’ll give you a report on how well the pepper spray for cats worked.