I recently returned from Florida where I got some serious visiting done with my best friend, who lives near Ft. Myers. I was there a week, and it was very relaxing-- a little shopping, a couple of movies, an overnight trip to Key West via jet boat from Ft. Myers, and lots of gab. It wasn't as cool as my visit last year (in February), but actually the part of me that wore out first was my feet. Note to self: next trip to Key West spring for one of the electric golf carts.
It was packing for the trip that made me take a close look at my night wear and my (ahem) undergarments. When did they get so tired and stretched out? SURELY it can't be because my basic b'day suit has likewise stretched a wee bit over the years! Impossible!
Recently I found an outfit from 1975, pants and a jacket. My daughter tried it on, and it fit fine. She wears a 14 or even a 12, but the suit was a 16 back in the day. So "size inflation" has indeed occurred, where the sizes that were 16 now have "14" hanging on them, to make the consumer feel better. If you have, say, always worn a 14, you have in fact gained one size, or 15-20 pounds over the years. There now, isn't that a great brightener for the day?
What else is new? My bathroom is haunted by a cat ghost. Last night I heard unmistakable sounds of a cat playing with a certain toy, at 4:30 this morning. I was convinced one of the other cats had been shut inside, because I only let one cat sleep with me (don't ask why only one or why not zero, it somehow seemed like a good idea at the time). This one cat was sleeping beside me when the toy-playing sounds came from the bathroom, and she reacted to it also. I looked everywhere a cat would hide, even lay on the floor and checked with a flashlight. Nothing there. Then I went out of the bedroom, closing the door, and counted cats upstairs. All present and accounted for. So what did I hear? My family thinks I was dreaming, but I was awake enough to stub my toe on the cedar chest. And the noise didn't stop as I walked toward the bathroom until I turned on the lights. Weird.
Next weekend, on June 6th, we celebrate our 39th anniversary. I think that is the neon anniversary, so we will be checking out the local marquees, and if it says "congratulations Redhead and N" we will eat there. Otherwise, it will be KFC, I suspect. I looked at our wedding album (and my parents' copy and N's parents copy) and all I can think is how young we all looked. When did they start letting 6th graders marry?
This brief post will have to do for now. Oh yeah, and this one photo taken at Sanibel, I think....
At least we don't have a pier growing out of the tops of our heads!
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