Clothing Bonanza II

So I took the unwanted ugly clothes to the D.I. today, and while I was there, I decided to shop--  remembering my stylish friend, Dean Duvander who bought ALL of his clothes at D.I.  He had a good eye and was a patient shopper.  So I bought a khaki skirt and a denim vest--very classic and my favorite casual wear, barely worn.  Nine bucks.  Now I need a pair of brown boots.  I'm determined not to pay much for them.  There was a wonderful red Ralph Lauren blazer for ten bucks, but it was too small.  There was also a red coat for twenty dollars, which I'm thinking about overnight.  D.I. rocks!

Clothing Bonanza

Last winter in New York when I was disgusted with my vasty hips and mammoth hams,  I collected all the clothes that were then too small for me and stuffed them into a green bag to take to Goodwill.  This included four expensive blazers and an Austen Reed suit that I loved.

The bag was much too large to carry on the subway and I stuck it into the front hall closet waiting for the day when Tom and I would drive down Broadway to Washington Heights and make our delivery.  And I thought we did just that.

"I think it's all in a big box in the garage," Tom said to me last week."

"I don't think so," I said.

Today I went out and opened the box.  All my clothes were in it.  Clothes I thought I would never wear again.  I tried them on one after the other:  gray wool flannel pants, a navy blue blazer with gold buttons, my Talbots silk shirt, a black velvet vest with red and green embroidered roses on it that I bought at Utah Woolen Mills and is perfect for the holidays; my Austen Reed suit, a red blazer and more.  I fit into my wonderful clothes!

It was my reward for being disorganized, for procrastinating.    Grasshoppers: 1.  Ants: 0

Weekend Visitors

Jonathan and Julie drove down from Boise with Katelyn this conference weekend to make an announcement, which was emblazoned on Katelyn's t-shirt.  We were too dimwitted to see it.  Later, Charles and Erica and family came over, along with Sam and Sarah and the boys to celebrate Katelyn's third birthday.  Sam spotted the message.  Congratulatory hoo haws all around.  I'll let them post the t-shirt themselves.

I did not take the important pictures:  Katelyn opening presents, blowing out the candles, eating the cake, feeding the ducks and just being all around cute.  Saved by Photo Booth yet again.

When the depression comes again . . .

When the depression comes again, will I collect cottage cheese cartons and their lids?  And rubber bands and string?  Will dinner be chunks of bread dipped in last week's gravy?  Will meat night be fried Spam or wieners cut in half?  Will I learn to darn our socks or have shoes repaired instead of buying new ones? Will I use the lining in an old coat to make a new blouse?Will we take cod liver oil to stay healthy?

When the depression comes again, will my fixed income dry up?  Will I lose my house and live with my children or in my storage unit?  Or will my children move in with me?  Will we give each other haircuts to save money and will beggars walk door to door for food?  Will I keep a couple of chickens on the enclosed patio for eggs?    Will I rummage through trash cans, stand in a soup line and march on Washington?  Will I lose my teeth?

Or will my life continue with a moderate tightening of the belt and instead of dinners out with friends, we will have potlucks and hot dishes made of leftovers?  Will I pick sunflowers for the table and notice that the sun is still shining?

Transsiberian: the movie

If you want to see a smart and truly scary thriller, go see Transsiberian immediately.  In Salt Lake it's playing at the Broadway.  We made a note to ourselves afterward:  don't take the Transsiberian train from Beijing to Moscow.  Just don't.  

We made a similar rule after watching Funny Games:  don't let anyone into the house especially if they want to borrow a couple of eggs.  This remains the scariest movie I've ever seen.

Weight update

This is not me.  I'm taller.  I'm grayer.  But I've lost 35 lbs.  Only 15 lbs to go.  I do have some "before" pictures but I don't want to gross out the grandkids, or anyone else for that matter

Five Days/Six Nights

Five days, six nights:  that's how long the Plumski grandchildren, Harrison, Anne and Mira, were in the house.  I learned stuff.  Tom asked Harrison if he wanted to go to the BYU football game and he grunted, "Not really.  I'm not into football."  

"You are so Charles," I said.

"You want to know what my dad says?"

I rolled my eyes, because I knew it would be salacious.

Harrison said, "Why would you want to watch a football game?  It's just a bunch of guys rolling in the grass playing with each other."

Okay, I am the mother of that remark, so of course I laughed.

Tom went to the game with the Bracys.

Anne helped Harrison learn the U.S. capitol cities by giving what Tom and I thought were impossible pneumonic devices something like "connect the heart" for Hartford, Connecticut.  Although I didn't do much better:  "Providence, Rhode Island is a gay enclave," I said.  "Oh no, sorry, that's Provincetown, Massachusetts."  I thought Fargo was the capitol of South Dakota.  Fargo is in North Dakota and it's not the capitol, but it's a really good movie!  I think Harrison finally did master the list after Tom made him list the states on one side of the sheet with their capitols on the other side and fold the paper in half.

Mira has filled the front walk with chalk art including a full-length portrait of me in my pink and white striped shirt.  She fed the ducks and got nipped on the back of the legs a couple of times.  She can now play 93% of the notes on Guitar Hero.  We bought sparkly Hannah Montana Sunday shoes (Samantha would have approved) that created a blister.  She served Tom and me lunch on the patio (water, bread, butter, peanut butter and honey).  She can whistle.  And she can do a mean forward roll but doesn't really get cartwheels yet. 

Anne has guys texting her all hours of the day and night.  ("Are you mad at me?")

Five Days/Six Nights:  fabulous!