Shopping

When he goes shopping, it all seems so easy.  He wants a "couple of sweaters, and a couple of shirts, a pair of gloves, and some socks."  We wander around the store, he goes into the fitting room, and most everything looks good.  We wade through a bunch of gloves, and decide he needs a smaller size, so we find a leather pair in the women's department, and he's thrilled.  "These are the best pair of gloves I've had for ages".  No wonder.  They cost a bundle.

And he's done. We go for lunch.

The next day, I go to look in the ladies wear store in our small town.  It's just re-located to a brand new space, and added shoes to it's stock. I have a good time browsing, and chatting off and on with the sales girls.  "I haven't bought anything for ages, and I'm out of practice".  It's true.  I end up buying a scarf.

When I get home, he wants to know what I bought.  "Just a scarf?"

"Well, when I'm dressed for cold weather, it's such a nuisance trying stuff on."  I change the subject. But I do come home with a plan - of sorts.  I'll start with the boots, and work up. There, that feels better.

I've been trying to get something other than golf clothes.  But the thought of the panty hose always stopped me - those horrible saran-wrap itchy heat-producing tortures. It's one of the first questions I ask when I go back to the store.  The sweet young thing says - "look, try these on and tell me what you think".  They seem to be ribbed and somewhat bulky.  But when I get them hoisted up and onto my waist, I like them right away.  And in all the time of trying stuff on, I never once feel like I'm wearing panty hose. Before I know it, I have a pair of short boots that seem to fit quite fine -  and a sort of draped kind of tunic top. I look quite snappy!  The sweet young thing thinks I look good too.  So I wear the outfit to a party, and get compliments! What a surprise!
Women seem more inclined to wear whatever they feel like wearing, and the fashion mavens be damned.  I love seeing what all the stars wear when they go out for an evening and the cameras find them.  Have you ever watched a slide show of movie stars after some big event like the Academy Awards? Wow!  They can look pretty bad when they put their minds to it!

"Gated community"

"Imagine living in a place where the weather never changes. I've visited places like that. They may be warm and balmy and sun-filled and all that, but it would be like living in a gated community where everyone wears yellow and is happy all the time."
I stole this quote from an article I read this morning.  Her name is Mrs. Sundberg, and she writes a column about living a busy life with family and friends.  Lots of wry comments about being human.   
A friend said to me once "there are very few places in North America where the weather is pleasant most of the time".  He's right.  When you think of it, Arizona, California, Texas - the places we think of as kind of "warmish" - they all have their dark sides.
But I suppose that makes the case for the "4 seasons".  Canadians are good at living with the 4 seasons, I think.  Especially when we're young.  When we become seniors, the bloom goes off a bit.  Because in Canada, winter is too long.  There's always more of winter than the other three.
But back to my quote.  The part of the quote that struck a chord with me was the "gated community" part.  
I have been in places that felt exactly that way to me - as if I were living in a gated community.  Or a video.  As if the street contained a cast of characters, and I just happened to become part of it.  I'm trying to remember that movie with Jim Carey - where he starred in a TV show and the TV show was actually his life.  
There's always something missing.  I have a vague feeling of unreality.  As if the day were being "programmed" somehow.  As if we had all been collected up together and given some sort of script.  There's no noise and conflict of business and industry, screeching brakes, the messy buzz of commerce.  No feeling of just being part of regular life out there.  Getting kids to school, rushing to the Mall,  stopping for milk on the way home after work. 
"Why would you miss that?" you might ask.  You're right.  It's strange, isn't it?  I don't even like noise, and busy-ness.  But I discovered that when it seemed to be missing, I was - unsettled.  Go figure.

A little girl at Christmas

There's something about little girls.  

This one has black hair, and eyes with built-in eyeliner. Her hair is longer than when I last saw her, and it looks good.

She's wearing a new coat.  Black and a bit puffy.  She's like a fashion ad in Vogue.

This place is a sort of Christmas house in the woods.  Thousands of Xmas lights all through the forest, and a tea room and play room and music room in the house.  They have tea and coffee and scones and sweets.  The little girl sits in a highchair and eats and eats.  Her Mom always seems to travel with food for her.  Watermelon and cheese, crackers and raisins.  This Mom can talk to three people at once, including the little girl, and still keep her happy with these little niblets of food.  "Watermelon is her favorite - oh - and strawberries - she always eats them until they're pretty well gone".

Her Dad and Mom give her a lot of words, too.  She never gets tired of this.  She repeats every one of the words, and is very happy doing this.  She needs constant diversions -  things to look at and talk about and run into and fall out of. 

There's music coming from down the hall.  Her Mom lifts her up and looks for the music makers.  We get a seat  right in the front row.  A small group of players doing Christmas folk tunes from long ago.  recorder types of horns, and small stringed contraptions, and a singer.  They're wearing funny looking hats.  And suddenly, the little girl becomes still. Is it because we're so close?  She doesn't look around a lot - perhaps it's the sounds of the horns and this tiny violin - she sits quietly.  For 20 whole minutes, she's still. 

"You're kidding", says her Dad when we return.