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Sunday, November 3, 2013

Buried In Clothes

 Like everyone that lives in an area with all four seasons I'm faced twice a year with the switching out of the clothes routine. I put it off as long as possible, hoping perhaps that it will stay warm enough for tank tops and Capri's, completely  bypassing the entire fiasco. And it is a bit of a fiasco because I have no idea what possesses me to buy enough summer clothes to outfit an entire camp. Really. You figure you actually wear summer clothes for 3 months. Then reduce that by the amount of time you work - I should be able to get by with a couple pairs of shorts, skirts, etc. and with them being lighter and smaller be able to contain it to a couple of drawers. You would think that. The bed was piled high with two weeks worth of shorts - and out of those  the ones I wear the most are two very tattered, comfortable pairs a hobo would cast shame on. The rest were still sparkly new with the creases from the store still intact.  A rainbow of skirts, about 30 shirts and then a few dresses. Enough shoes for a chorus line - dresses I love and do not wear, dresses I want to wear, all stuffed tightly into two very large containers to spend the winter in the attic. In the spring I'll haul them back out and wonder why I have so much. The circle of life and all of that I suppose. We turned back the clocks early last night - fifty two years old and I've finally figured out if you turn the clocks right after dinner and go to bed later (or earlier) according to the time change it's not nearly as big a pain in the ass it is when you turn the clocks the next morning. The dogs stayed asleep too since I adjusted the coffee pot. Ours goes off automatically and the dogs consider the little beep something like the noise that means you need to come shooting out of the gate. The second it goes off they start jumping and dancing around frantic since they're awake they must have to pee RIGHT NOW. It's a very nice day out today and they've been out a million times already, Reuben is being retrained to come and sit, again and again until we get it down pat. We've been very lax with that lately and now we pay the price as he will come unless there is something more interesting, then he comes when he is good and ready to. David will be getting a tracking collar - it's all well and fine to say if the dog doesn't come back when called then you don't want it back - unless it actually doesn't come back. That's a whole other can of worms, isn't it?

1 comment:

Antonio Cícero da Silva(Águia) said...

Realmente, um ótimo escrito... Parabéns...