Last weekend we were up in Washington to attend our granddaughter's graduation from college. Being from California, and it being May and ninety in the shade when we left, my husband, the LOC*, took only cargo shorts, and one pair of dress slacks to wear to the graduation. It seems he cannot function with fewer than 14 pockets upon his person at any given time.
I, being both sensible and sensitive to the reaction anyone might have if my legs were ever to be displayed in public, took both dress clothes and basic jeans for the rest of the weekend. (Remember: Erma Bombeck said the last person who saw her in a pleated skirt went blind? Well, the same goes for me in shorts, so I just don't own any. Who wants to be responsible for another person's visual impairment?)
Of course, it being Washington, by Sunday it was cold and rainy and the LOC (*Lovable Old Coot) had goosebumps on his knees (not a good visual, by the way) and we needed to attend an outdoor barbecue. In Washington they don't let a little downpour get in the way of a good outdoor get-together, which was being held under numerous large patio umbrellas.
It was fine as long as you were not sitting near the edge of one, in which case you were apt to be drenched down the back of your neck. But no matter.
Thus, just before this movable feast in the spring showers commenced, we dropped by a local Target store looking for some basic jeans with which to cover the LOC's goosebumpy knees. While he was looking for what he should have packed, I decided to try to find what I had been searching for, for about two weeks: a new bed skirt.
I had already tried JCP and Kohl's and I had not had time to make it all the way across town to Bed Bath and Beyond. (I have always wondered "beyond what" but was afraid to ask.)
I will admit that Target, with all its vaunted "shabby chic" did not exactly fit the mental picture I was going for, in my newly expanded decor delusion, but I figured it couldn't hurt to look.
Well, the bed skirt fairies were with me, and there it was. The right size, the right shade and at the right price. My wardrobe should be so lucky.
So, after sitting around for a couple of hours, chilled to the bone, gnawing on barbecued chicken bones, I smiled the whole six hundred and fifty miles home, over the bed skirt find. For the rest of it, well, I truly did not understand why, if you are going to barbecue in a downpour, you don't invest in one of those cunning little fire pits, so guests don't freeze their knees off, while enjoying your damp hospitality. But that is just me.
Of course, little did I know what trauma awaited me in trying to stuff that darned duvet. (But that is another post called How To Stuff a Duvet.)
I'll probably have claustrophobia flare-ups for weeks after my tussle with that monster. But it is now tamed and looking just stunning.
Me? I'm just stunned period - by the whole recent adventure. Till next time ....Marsha (your duvet-managing momma)