Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Wednesday's Words for November 5, 2008

It doesn’t take much to make me happy. It really doesn’t. I went to Wal-Mart Saturday, and I came out with a huge smile on my face.

Before I explain why, let me take a moment to give you what’s likely to be way more information about me than you ever really wanted to know.

I am a simple woman. I don’t crave expensive things, as a rule. I don’t care if I have linen or silk, mohair or velvet. Diamonds and sapphires are pretty to look at, but I don’t feel moved to possess them. If my clothing is comfortable, and just a bit flattering in appearance, I’m happy. That’s for going out. When I am at home, in my cave, I really don’t give a darn what I look like.

I have clothes that I wear on a weekly basis that probably should be tossed into the rag bin. One old top I keep and wear when I color my hair – though I haven’t done that for a while—has more holes than Swiss cheese. When I’m doing housework I have a couple of old, loose-fitting t-shirts that are stained, which is why I wear them when I’m doing things that will likely cause more stains.

During the day in the heating season, I tend to keep the thermostat fairly low. I only turn it up just before everyone is scheduled to arrive home.

Now there are exceptions, of course, to these otherwise scrooge-like traits. I like expensive perfume—Chloe, Chanel No. 5, and Oscar are my favourites. I have been known to pay over forty dollars for a pen, if it’s really pretty and feels nice in my hand. I may even purchased a sparkly blouse if it catches my eye, without even considering the price. And, if I’m cold, or my DH is cold, then I’ll whip that thermostat up to high, and I don’t care what that costs, either.

Now, back to the reason I was smiling at Wal-Mart. One of the ways I have been keeping warm during the day these last few years is that, along with my jeans and sweater and slippers, I put on my leg warmers. Remember them from when Fame and Flash Dance were popular? The two pairs of leg warmers I have, however, are getting old. I have a black pair, and a burgundy pair. The burgundy ones have pretty much lost their elasticity, and the black ones have a few holes in them.

Last January, when I was chilly and my arthritis was acting up, I asked my then thirteen year old grandson to help me get those leg warmers on. I think when he grows up he’s going to be a writer, too, because he’s very quick witted. I said to him, as he was assisting me, “and try not to make me look like an idiot, please.” To which he immediately replied, “Grandma, I can’t promise you that.”

Last year I asked for leg warmers for Christmas, but didn’t get any, of course, because the only place they could likely be purchased was at a dance supply store, and the nearest one is way over in Burlington—about a half hour away. What I did find last year, that helped keep me warm, was fuzzy socks. These things are so soft they make you sigh just to touch them.

On Saturday I went into Wal-Mart just to make sure they had those fuzzy socks again this year. And do you know what I found just around the corner from the fuzzy socks? Leg warmers! They have black ones and burgundy ones, white ones and green ones! They were six dollars a pair and I was sorely tempted to buy them all.

Restraint kicked in, and I purchased only one pair. I’m going to take a leap of faith here and trust that they’ll be around for at least the next few weeks so I can pick up another couple pairs. In fact, I think I’ll get a few and tuck them away for next near—along with a few extra pairs of those soft, fuzzy socks.


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