My mother wrote a short story about me once, called, "My Daughter, the Clothes Horse." The joke is, of course, that I am no fashion plate. I buy new clothes when the old ones are worn out or stained. I only own one purse. It's not that I don't APPRECIATE fashionable things, I just can't imagine spending the money. I also don't understand how people can fit things like professional manicures and hair-styling into their budgets.
So people like my gym-buddy, Mavis, astound me. I'll go to her house to pick her up and she 'll come down the stairs wearing earrings, sunglasses, shoes and a $500 Coach bag that are all the same color of lime green. I told her she looks great (she DOES) but I could never imagine buying shoes in any color but black. She came by at Christmas to say hello and to give me a Christmas gift. RASPBERRY PINK LEATHER BOOTS! (She also gave me a matching blouse, sweater and gloves.) Oh, the frivolity! But I must admit, I am over the moon about these silly boots! I spend an inordinate amount of time admiring my pretty feet.
Evil Neighbors and Ecstatic Cats
The boots are only my second favorite Christmas present. The best one is the cool bird (read "squirrel") feeder that Robert made for me. It has one-way glass and is attached to the window right outside my office, so while I type this I can watch birds (read "squirrels") munching away on treats only about two feet away from me and about two INCHES away from the nose of a twitching kitty.
Mabel, checking it out.
I keep a little "kitty mattress" on my desk top by the window, because cats like to sit near their people and I am often at my desk. I don't want to make aspersions about my kitty Twerp's intelligence or lack of it, but you would think, after nearly knocking himself out a few times, bonking his big, buffalo head against the window, that he would understand that he can't get at those birdies (read "squirrels"). Sometimes I have trouble typing because of the repeated slapping of my hands by mighty excited kitty tails.