This channels Gene Tierney. But it doesn't include her lips. Drat. September 10, 2008 14:37
OK, girls. OK, boys. I am doing this quick. I am doing this fast. I am doing this because I need a break. I do. And, you, my friends, are it.
Actually. Truth be told. I need a summer vacation. A real summer vacation. With the maps. The station wagon. The dogs. The roadside motels. The postcards that don't get mailed. I completely missed out on that American tradition this year. Really. Last summer, too. And the summer before. I am due. Or should I say overdue? I should. I'm glad you agree.
So. I am trying to get my upstairs clean. Clear. Uncluttered. Because. Tomorrow the new carpet will be installed. And guess what? The installers won’t move sewing patterns. They won’t move books. They won’t move pictures. They won’t move electronics. And that means I am doing it. Me. Myself. I. Along with that paragon of good cheer and eager-to-please attitude (not!), His Bertness.
But. If I were on vacation now, this minute, this very minute, I might be wearing Simplicity 4321 (great number, that). It’s made for a last-burst-of-summer retreat. Don’t you agree? I see it in strawberry ice cream linen. The shorts would be so cool, so fashionable for a stroll along the boardwalk in the afternoon sun. And one could always switch to the skirt for fried shrimp (remember I am a Southerner, and I like my food fried) at a seaside café when the night breezes blow cool. I might, perhaps, add a pair of earrings. Some that dangle boldly.
Ahh. Time to return to the toting. The trudging downstairs. Then back up. Once. Twice. Fifty times. More. I would complain. I would. You know I would. I am not afraid to complain. I am no Pollyanna. But. I look forward to the new carpet. And how. In fact, I so look forward to it that I am doing the heavy lifting with pleasure. Really. No fibbing. You would not believe how bad our carpet looks. Oh. My. Can you say nightmare? I can. And, trust me, I have. With relish. With drama. Oh so many times.
So, bon jour, dear readers. That’s the carpet pattern. And it's my wish for you. Of course.