Sunday, January 30, 2011

It's Sunday! It's Snowshoeing Day!

Can you tell I'm excited? It's a gorgeous day, the sun's shining and the snow's sparkling. It's going to be cold but that's okay, it's winter, silly. Zoe said there'll be hot chocolate too for a fifty-cent donation. I'm taking a dollar, just to be on the safe side. And I won't forget my camera. I've reminded myself once today already and Durwood's all cocked and primed to remind me before I go. He's a prince. I'm so glad I married him, that's one of the smartest things I ever did. We turned off the TVs and play a little cribbage last night. He won the first two games but I reclaimed a little dignity and won the last one. It was fun and we talked. I read an online article a few weeks ago about a woman who disconnected herself and her teenagers from all electronics for 6 months. I don't think I want to go that far but it is making me rethink being hooked up all the time. I'm addicted to putting borrowed library books on CD onto my Walkman to listen to while I drive and knit. In fact, I'm charging the player up right now. I find myself planning what I wear to work so that I have a pocket to slip my little friend into at the dive shop. Thank god for Eddie Bauer's old style sweatshirt sweaters; they have a single breast pocket. Of course, they're cotton so they're not as warm as a wool sweater would be so I wear layers of undershirts and usually take a pashmina as a scarf/shawl if I get cold. Plus they're pretty and shiny and soft. With fringe. What's not to love?

January 29--German, Settee. "Well, it doesn't look very comfortable," Viv said. "I mean, look at those carved...what are they? flowers?...on the back." She held up her bidder's paddle with the number turned away from the auctioneers to hide her lips. "Why do you want it?" Marcy frowned at her. "Didn't you hear what they said? There's one just like it in the Metropolitan Museum of Art." Viv snorted. "Oh, don't believe that stuff. It's just a come-on to jack up the bids. No one wants a sofa you can't sit on. I don't, at least." Marcy squinted at the settee. She liked all the carving and the fancy legs. She liked the gold gilt that covered every inch that wasn't upholstered. She didn't have cats or kids to ruin a special piece of furniture. Her fingers fretted the handle of the paddle. She thought she remembered someone saying something about deciding how much you were willing to spend before you got caught up in bidding. Eight hundred, she thought, or maybe a grand. It was starting. Maybe she'd just wing it. How much trouble could she get in?

Not where I thought I was going at all. At all. Fun though. Can't you just see them, all well-dressed and brittle looking? Auctions are fun. Maybe I'll find one to go to this summer. A country one would be fun. Looking at farm implements along with the household stuff. I should probably start getting dressed to go out into the forest primeval. Bye!

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