The pants dance

Hello folks.  Enjoying the Fall weather?  Our beautiful week is over and dreary rain has moved in along with chilly temperatures.  October.  What a bitch.  Anyway, I've decided to keep at Sally which isn't that far from completion.  Foolish to quit now, but I plan to work on a smaller project at the same time and trade off.  I'm a one project to completion stitcher but I did take a short break for a small recently and I handled it better than expected.  What I expected was to continue finding smalls in order to avoid going back to the large.  So now I'll try the small one evening, and the large the next and see how that goes, afraid to put Sally aside completely. 

 

I forgot to mention that the day we came home from the car exchange, the lamps flickered for a moment, and shortly after I smelled my mom.  Distinctly.  She never really wore perfume but always had a lovely scent which was unmistakably hers.  I felt my parents telling me they were pleased.  And here we go with the weepies again.  I do have her Evening in Paris talc, still full, and for some reason cannot locate the little blue cologne bottle.  For decades they sat on her dresser, even when we brought her here, and I've kept them together ever since.  But it's gone.  My mom always saved things "for good", as did my grandmother, thinking they may never be replaced.  Neither had any spare money to spend on themselves, whatever little they had went for the children's needs.  I inherited that "save it for good" philosophy unfortunately, and also their lack of money for replacements.

 

Most of you are probably smarter than I am and sit down to put on your pants.  I do the pants dance.  Standing, right leg in first and then I raise the left, expecting it to easily enter the leg opening as it did all those prior years of youth when hormones were plentiful and limbs were limber.  Sometimes it makes the leg opening, most times it doesn't.  This starts the pants dance.  Hopping on the right leg trying to keep balance, hunched over and holding onto the pants, tapping the left foot on the floor after every failure. I really get a good rhythm going.  This dance move has me hopping and tapping while my body continues moving to the right until a wall intervenes.  This is my own style of hip-hop.  Why the hell don't I give in and sit down? 

 

Maybe next month.

 

Have a great week and thanks for visiting.

 

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