Today a friend from a different chapter of my life and I exchanged several emails back & forth, most of which regarded our lives at the moment. My replies to her included the fact that I have never ever craved salt and yet now, I do. Last night for book club (I was hosting), I made the most delightful pickled okra wrapped in ham. Omigoodness, it WAS delightful. I ate a SLEW of pickled okra last night. So good, as was the BLT I ate this morning (without the L; we're out of L).
This afternoon I was in our local department store, which was having a seasonal sale. I ventured into all the departments: men's, women's, baby's (I have a shower to attend this week), jewelry, shoes...you name it: I was there. I called that spouse o' mine and told him to head over after work and peruse the men's shoe selection. This evening he told me he did head over, but that there were no shoes on clearance. What?! I replied that there was A WHOLE RACK OF MEN'S DRESS SHOES ON CLEARANCE. Apparently this man has no radar for sale/clearance. My gosh.
Anyway, part of my shopping expedition found me in the women's lingerie department, for the sole purpose of looking for something COOL to wear around the house - maybe in the mornings, maybe in the evenings, after what my friend Barb-the-Rancher-down-the-Road describes as a 3-Shower-Day: a shower in the AM because the night was hot, one at the end of the work day because you're filthy and another before bed to freshen up. The trouble with my venturing into that part of the women's department is that everything I cast eyes upon sang out "Mrs. Roper", and so I walked out of lingerie and back into jewelry. I do love jewelry, and if there is something that might take my mind off the heat, it's a fine bracelet.
So what's the gist of this post? I am not sure, but I think that it's the fact that I'm 50.
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