June 24, 2012


Upside down and staying awake.

Himself:  Slowly assembling his Steampunk costume for Comic Con and opening night at the Museum.   I can’t get him to wear a kilt which would make his costume truly look authentic.  We did dinner with the Feasters.  One has post polio, one has been very ill for three weeks and doesn’t understand what her doctor is doing, and the last has cancer. 

Herself:   Two estate sales.  Nothing left.  After lunch took a very long nap.  Not good to have the afternoon napped away.  Got the mystery shelves dusted and straightened out. 

Reading:  The newest Evanovitch “Wicked.”  Not as wicked as usual.

Balance:  The paper and CBS Sunday Morning even if they were reruns.

G asked, ”What floats your boat this morning?”

“Amvets,” I replied.

It’s pretty bad when thrift store searching stirs ones imagination more than anything else.  Is it a symptom of my old age.  Am I so shrunken that all I think about is more clothes.

Perhaps the vintage of stuff in my closet is what started this urge to get more.  Not only am I dowdy looking, but many of my clothes are well over ten years old and out of style.  If it were truly vintage, I could enjoy it, but not my stuff.  Target T’s with high necks, very tired pants that begin stretching the minute you put them on, and a vast assortment of coats I don’t wear.

Ah, limits.  I have only one good dress silk shirt.  But I have two pair of good pants that actually fit that I wear on Sunday nights.  What for, you ask. 

This time around I usher at my Sunday night meeting.  In your basic office attire, which I didn’t own any of when I started this series of volunteer gigs, I stand, or sit, by the door and indicate where the empty seats are.  I wander around and find the seats too.  Then I shush the talkers.  Those talkers are very tired of me, but only for two more weeks. 

For the first time in years, neither G nor I have volunteered for a specific job.  G’s going to be a greeter…standing at the door and saying, “Hi.”  No chair of this or that.  Perhaps he won’t have to wear a suit on Sundays now, and I can relax my wardrobe.  I might greet sitting so no one notices my pants.  The thought makes me laugh.


  1. Aw, c'mon! How bad do your pants have to be, when your smile outshines them?

  2. Some of my clothes are probably 20 years old, and I don't care. I stopped wearing stretch pants, except to exercise, and that made a big difference. After all, pants are pants. Just keep smiling. You are beautiful.

  3. Oh yes, the clothes battle, I know it well. You are much more social than me. I never go anywhere to dress up.

  4. More clothes is fun. I have some C9 t-shirts at Target that's on sale that I have my eyes on for tomorrow.

  5. I hear the clothes business. My skirts for church have elastic waste bands, as I lose some weight they get looser and looser.

  6. If I can keep up this weight loss, I might fit some of the clothes in my closet I haven't worn in 10 years. Wow, most are office attire. Not sure how I would feel about that. Dianne

  7. I go in cycles with stuff I like to wear. Not sure what the cycle is right now. Shall we say eclectic?

  8. I am presently wearing a white broderie anglaise shirt. The holes make this hot steamy weather bearable. It has to be at least 25 years old:)

  9. At 70 I finally realized It was high time to trust my own sense of style and now wear whatever feels "right" for me--mostly long blouses or shirts (worn outside, not tucked) and long or Capri length pants. what you see is what you get. after all, it's others who have to look at me, not me. No apologies!


What a delight to get a note from you. Thanks for leaving one.


Peter in front of a wall sculpture. We were invited up to Peter Knego’s home to see the latest installation.   Abstract flat ...