Today Whooshed By

All of a sudden it was evening and I wasn't sure where the day went.  This morning I made a tidy because the cleaning lady came--and we all know that you have to clear off surfaces and put crap away (I hide all the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, even the ones that can't be washed in there) before she arrives. While she cleaned I got a start on packing.  I'm glad that I got some of those packing cubes, not the plastic things that you squeeze the air out of, but flat fabric boxes with mesh tops that zip for packing rolled up shirts, socks, undies, even my chilly weather gear fits into one.  This is making packing so much easier.  I got one set from the dive shop, ordered one on Amazon, and was given a set by a knitting friend.  Thanks, LB!  I thought before I started that I had too many, now I wonder if I have enough.  I'll make do.



Finally finally finally the hummingbird sat still long enough for me to snap its picture with my new camera.  I tried to switch to the longer, telephoto lens quickly but that's when it up and flew away.  I'm amazed at how much clearer this image is.  And how tiny these birds really are.  I swear that I've seen bumblebees that are bigger.


Mrs. Boss called this morning wondering if I'd like some leftover roasted corn.  Yes!  Just this morning I found a recipe for a Beef Fajita bowl that calls for corn kernels so I'll be cutting them off the cob tomorrow so I can make it.



Speaking of LB, I gave her that Fair Isle scarf kit I got as a Karmic Balancing Gift.  I knew that I'd never knit it because it's really not my style and I'm not a fan of Fair Isle knitting so rather than let it languish in my stash until moths eat it, I passed it on to someone who'll love it.  She's already started knitting it.  And she brought me these skeins of Baby Alpaca Chunky yarn as a thank you.  That's way more my style of yarn and it's as soft as a baby's behind.  Ahhh.




I spilled a little bit of birdseed on the patio when I filled the feeders and it didn't take much more than a minute for a chipmunk to show up to do clean up duty.






13 August--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon.

October

I stood in front of the rack of lingerie.  All my life I had worn good, serviceable cotton bras and panties.  But ever since I’d changed my wardrobe and gotten a haircut, I’d felt so much younger.  I found myself lingering over the lingerie ads in women’s magazines and really looking through the catalogs that I used to throw away.

            So here I was in Simpson Mall, standing outside Victoria’s Secret and they were having a sidewalk sale.  An impossibly young clerk asked if she could help me, but I was too embarrassed to admit to a child that I’d never bought any undies except Hanes in three-packs.  I flipped the racks, my fingers lingering on the cool silkiness, and I found myself making decisions about which colors might look good on my skin.  And even scarier, which ones Abel might like.

            We had another date last weekend and I had even more trouble controlling my rampaging imagination.  I kept looking at Abel’s hands and thinking about how I wanted to feel them touching my breasts.  I watched his mouth and instead of focusing on what he was saying, I wondered how he would taste, how his lips would feel planting tiny kisses on the back of my neck.  I don’t remember ever having such thoughts about Bert.  I must have been blushing because Abel asked me if I was all right.  I told him I was fine, just having a hot flash.  I haven’t had one of those for nearly a year.  Okay, maybe one or two but I seem to have them all the time when I’m with Abel.

            I worked my way through every rack in the Victoria’s Secret store and kept coming back to a little slip of a nightgown in alternating bands of lace and silk in a bronze color.  I picked one up and asked the clerk if I could try it on.

            I turned away from the mirror in the changing room to shuck my jeans and sweater and pull the gown over my head.  It felt like expensive spider webs sliding over my skin and it took all my nerve to turn to look at myself.  Even with the merciless lighting in the tiny cubicle I could see that it fit me perfectly, ended just below my behind, and made my skin look like cream.  The only jarring note was the glare of my white cotton panties through the lace.  Okay, if I’m buying this nightgown, I thought, I need to get some of those panties that look like wisps of silk to go with it.

Back into my jeans and back on the sales floor, I was faced with table after table of panties.  I found a pair that perfectly matched the bronze silk of the gown, not a thong thank god, and since they were on sale bought five more pairs in various colors.  Before I could change my mind or come to my senses I dashed to the counter and bought it all.  Ninety dollars of insanity was wrapped in pink tissue and gently put in a bag that wouldn’t hold four paperback novels.  Resisting the urge to make the clerk take it all back, I turned to leave the store.

Walking toward the exit I passed a sale rack and couldn’t resist stopping.  By the time I had made my way around it, there were six hangers over my arm.  Six hangers full of frothy lace, filmy chiffon and sensual silk.  Six hangers full of craziness in red, ivory, flowery prints, pale blue, and black.  All in my size, all made my breath come a little faster.  I went back to the changing room, stripped to my undies again, and tried them on.  Each one was prettier than the last; long or short, revealing or chaste, I had to have them all.

            The final total was nearly two hundred and fifty dollars and the teen-aged clerk made a sly comment about a long weekend.  I was embarrassed but I smiled, winked, and got out of there.  I didn’t plan to show them to Clara for a while.

Once again I woke up before 5:30 AM.  I enjoy the surprise afternoon naps on the couch but I'd rather have energy all day.  *sigh*
--Barbara