After the washing up, the washing (small house, wet
weather, no tumble dryer, don't underestimate the skill required) and a basic
level of cleaning is covered, it should be writing time, only Boy has sent a
plaintive text: please can someone fetch him his photography folder? And while
so close to town, I figure, why not drop in the banking and buy some cup hooks
and root ginger. And while I'm near-ish there's a sale and I might as well try
on some dresses, there's a wedding reception to go to on Saturday: it would be
transcendent to go out and be wearing new clothes. The sale is ultra-cheap: the
vision viable. This dress and that, I deliberate: mid-lengths, mostly: leopard
print; lovely, but not in my size; skinny fit feather motif; looks good full of
curves but it won't hold its shape; embroidered nouveau folk; so quirky but so
shapeless; and a random dress picked up accidentally in the clutter of the
other choices; this is the one that I buy. At home I hang it up like a trophy
and get my writing done.
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| (It's not this dress, but this is a dress: close enough!) |
I love the poetry in the title of your post.
ReplyDeleteMy heart goes out to you getting the wash done with no dryer in damp, cold weather. Actually, you quite have my respect!
I hope the dress you ended up choosing is perfect for the wedding. (Since the leopard print was not quite an auspicious fit ...)
It is a special occasion for me to buy new clothes, yet alone a new dress (!) so I was right there with you in the random trying of this and that. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteHere the poetry is mostly in the title- sometimes you can lop a title off but here it is vital to the whole. And I am brazenly confident with my clothes drying skills- Level Expert! Very happy with the new dress, and Girl is going to do my hair. I shall look quite presentable and that is a bit of a novelty :-)
ReplyDelete