Recently, I was looking for an envelope, an everyday sort of no-nonsense envelope, when I discovered I was out of them. In the relevant drawer were only some rather elegant, thick white ones usually saved for letters of some significance, congratulations, condolences and beggings for forgiveness for example. Wearily, I added common or garden envelopes to my 'must do' list and accepted my letter would have to wait until I had had time and energy to climb the hill of local shopping, Then, as I lay down to recover from the hassle, it came to me there could be another solution: use the 'posh' ones.
Dear Reader, I leapt off the bed, re-inspired, and put my letter in to the envelope that was rather too far above its station. It then came to me that this was a phenonmenon capable of massive extension. With a terminal illness I should have no more need of 'keeping for best'. I could look in my underwear drawer and enjoy the frills and laces that had been kept for special occasions. (Don't ask) .Likewise socks, tights and stockings. These days I mostly wear socks which will do nicely under trousers and stockings require something on which to attach them to keep them up. I therefore extracted a suspender belt, also frills and lace but, here's the rub, my waist was no lomger the size it had been when this item was purchaased. The next obvious step was to review my wardrobe. Nowadays I do live rather an indoor life so there wouldn't me much scope for dresses and silk blouses and the like. However, my remembered forty-year old self had enjoyed the feeling of silk against my skin so I added those blouses to the 'what-are-you-keeping-them-for pile. Further down the house is the china cupboard. Here rest several china tea sets the heritage of Mother and Mother-in-law and one that had been a seriously indulgant purchase of a don't- want- to- live -without- it set of my own. You have guessed correctly: I now take my hot drinks in exquisite fine bone china. The cups take about a half of the capacity of the ubiquitous mug, But who cares, I can aleays refill. ( Though I do remember and have noticed again, that the second cup is never as lovely as the first.} If this trend continues I shall have to wear some exquisite night attire that has been closetted since a way of life ended a couple of decades ago. My bed is now covered by a glorious, antique, embroidered linen counterpane which has been masquerading as a picture folded over a brass pole at the end of the bed ever since I moved in. I even manage to risk the Honourable Cat having a go at it - not so far .Fortunately, the concept of Sunday Best no longer bears the tediousness of having to sit still, eat carefully and not play games which it bore in its origins. Bore da
Friday 30 June 2017
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1 comment:
O daer, Liz. The post has turned up in Spanish. I am glad you are so fluent in it but I am not
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