My sister interrupted my niece’s phone call, this weekend, to announce she misses me “terribly”. We tend to overdramatize. She was looking at a very large cookie, with frosting, which may or may not have conjured the emotion. She requested a photo for her fridge gallery. I took quite a few, my husband took one and made me laugh, two cute tree hugging-planet saving, pachouli fragranced, girls at a picnic table took another but I look like a doofus so I’m not going to post that one. The best one is of me in the midst of cleaning the bathroom. I am but a common person of the masses… .
Fishing on Saturday, smiling while seething-more later. In case you haven’t noticed I am sometimes inclined toward mean spirited, small minded, uncharitable thoughts.
CLEANING THE BATHROOM, an introspective.
I bought the frames for my specs in 1994. I chose them because they make me look just like Jodie Foster; they did in 1994 and, oddly, they still do, the resemblance is uncanny!
My husband’s imagery. I love this ensemble. The sunglasses are glamorous. I bought them for $2.00, 25 years ago, at a swap meet in San Diego. They lend a little zap of pizazz to my big, bad, glitzy self.
An artistic composition I took on the way to bed last night. I’m wearing my public spectacles, the ones I use at the bank and the post office. Otherwise, I walk around oblivious, a modern day Mrs. Magoo. The frames haven’t had quite the impact I’d hoped for. I intended them to be a signature look; instead, a fashion fizzle.
Reality can’t often compete, successfully, with imagination.