Friday, December 2, 2011
By 11 AM Central Standard Time the St. Vincent de Paul guys had come and gone with the estate sale residue, DS had come to remove the plant holders and bird feeders from the balcony rail and help load up the tables to be returned, I had cleared out all the cleaning products from under all 3 sinks, I had loaded up the cane-back sewing rocker, and we had made a few dozen walks down the lot to the dumpster with the last of the trash and recycling. I also dumped most of a cup of coffee into my purse and down my back. (I do not recommend it, but now my purse smells great.) It was hard, harder than I thought to hand over all the keys and the garage door opener, leaving Mom's apartment for the last time. But I did it. We returned the tables, I put the rockers in storage and hauled the card tables, side tables, and the last bags o'crap into the house. Now I get to try and eliminate some of our stuff that's been moldering downstairs so I have places to put this new-to-us crap. Fun times! I started last night by pulling out all the old and way outdated computer equipment (remember 5" floppies?), hauling it up and putting it in Durwood's van, then I got rid of it on my way to Mom's this morning. That gave me places for the dolls and photos. I have plans for the rest. I'll let you know how it works out.
December 1--Elsa Schiaparelli, "Apollo of Versailles" Cape. It was like wearing fireworks. The black silk cape clung to her shoulders like a lover's arms and the gold metallic braid and embroidery on the front made the impression. The weight of it held the silk in place, feeling almost like a breastplate, which might have been appropriate if she'd had much in the breast department but she didn't. Designers liked to dress her for that very reason. Her hips were slim. Her legs were long and her chest was nearly flat. On her worst days she referred to herself as "a walking hanger" convinced that people noticed only her clothes and not her.
Time to haul things downstairs. I'd like a freight elevator or maybe a dumb waiter. My knees would too, but I think all this upping and downing is good for them so they should quit complaining.