Posted tagged ‘flowered dresses’

“Age is just a number. It’s totally irrelevant unless, of course, you happen to be a bottle of wine.”

June 3, 2019

The early morning was cloudy, but the sun pushed the clouds away. The day is lovely with the sun, a slight breeze and a blue sky. It will be in the 60’s. I have to go to the garden shop to pick up the potting soil I bought. There was no room in the trunk the other day. I also want a few more strawberry plants and the plants for the front step pot. If more plants catch my eye, I’ll just load them on the cart. I am a sucker for plants.

Today is laundry day. Enough said!

Henry is upstairs hiding from me. He sensed I wanted him. He’s right. I need to put his name tag back on his collar. He also needs a trip to the vet’s to have his nails clipped. Poor Henry!

I have a slow week as there is only a single entry on my dance card, one for Wednesday. The garden shop and the Christmas tree shop are on my list. I need to replace my barbecue cover as the spawns of Satan have chewed off one half of it. It is bare to the elements and covered with pollen. This cover is the fourth victim of the spawns. The third cover disappeared completely. It wasn’t on the deck or in the yard. A six foot fence surrounds my yard. It must have taken an army of spawns to steal it and get it over or under the fence.

When I was a kid, old was relative. My grandparents were really old to me. My parents, not as much. Each grandmother wore the accepted old lady’s wardrobe of the day. Their dresses were flowered, small flowers, not big ones which would draw the eyes. Their shoes were black with laces and stubby heels. They wore bib aprons which also had flowers. One grandmother wore slippers in the house. Her nylons were scrunched around her ankles, and the backs of her slippers were flattened by her feet. My other grandmother used to have a wire basket with wheels. She’d take it up the street to the First National, buy her groceries then drag the filled basket home. She was the unimaginative cook. I never thought as either one as the future me.

“Longevity-and sanity. Eccentric old ladies on Harleys I can deal with.”

February 20, 2015

 

Today is sunny but freezing. Enough said!

Yesterday was a medal worthy day, a gold achievement medal on a tricolored ribbon. I did all four errands including the dump which was as deserted as I’ve ever seen it. Two workers were there and two cars counting mine. Both guys emptied my trunk for me, one at the paper recycle bin and the other at trash. At our next stop, Gracie, in her lovely Pendleton coat, came with me into Agway. Few people were there. Next we hit the grocery store for cream and coffee, my life’s blood, then I drove to Dennisport and Buckies for my favorite sandwich and a whoopie pie. Alas and alack there were no whoopies, but I did buy a day old cupcake with a mountain of frosting. Luckily my disappointment was salved by that chocolate cupcake.

The mayor of Boston has tried to put the kibosh on the newest trend: diving from windows into the snow. The divers are even wearing bathing suits.

Okay, I don’t often get political here, but I think in this instance I’m safe. Jeb Bush’s speech moved from politics to stand-up. He blasted the President for his, “approach to Iraq…excuse me, Iran.” He went on to say ISIS has a military strength of 200,000 fighters when CIA estimates say they’ve got between 20,000 and 31,500. Reporters were later told by e-mail Mr. Bush misspoke. He should have practiced saying Boko Haram as his version came out as “bow-coo haram.”

In high school I used to be required to carry a green school bag, the one with water-repellent rubber inside. It was the same color as military bags are now. Guys would carry their bags behind their backs by the straps while girls seemed to carry theirs in front as if they were carrying books. I don’t think they sell those bags any more which is a good thing. I felt silly carrying mine and it was so heavy my body developed a permanent tilt.

I carry a messenger bag in the summer and a leather backpack in the winter. I have never been one to carry a purse or handbag. Neither one fits my personality. I do remember the old ladies of my youth all wearing pretty much the same sort of wardrobe: clunky heeled tie shoes, support hose, flowered dresses, hats and huge handbags hanging off their arms.

I do have a flowered dress-it is my summer dress. As for the rest, not yet, not ever I hope.


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