Old ladies may resist activity, but we certainly need it more than ever. So yesterday was hair styling day. Thank you again ma belle M, for blonding me yet once more; and trimming my bushy black eyebrows that I can’t see but everyone else can; and couldn’t you please find a way to trim the wrinkles? I never guessed they would be so…wrinkly. (Plastic surgeons need not apply.)
We drove the three blocks to Whole Paycheck afterward, and darling Red patiently waited in the car while I shopped especially for Christmas treats, tea candles, and supper. I found my favorite Sumo oranges and tea lights, but nothing attractive enough to shout “extra Kid Gift,” settling on a chocolate bar. Supper was the big, expensive boondoggle. That’s happened before, but I came back in the name of “make it work.” They offered fewer, drier choices on the Hot Bar, and I made poor choices, “eating with my eyes” from slim pickings. Time is a factor, I’m sure: what’s fresh and tasty at noon is dead on arrival at 5:00 and cremated by reheating at home. Lesson learned? We’ll see. The dream of convenient supper prep lives on.
C and N came over to play in the evening, so a good time was had by all.
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