|You have no idea about my shame.|
Cookie HATES packing.
In my mother's head I hear her saying: "You'll need a fresh change of clothes for each day, plus one. Stick to neutrals. Take your own pillow. Take only nice underwear."
Aw, Ma, do I have too?
Unlike Mr. TJB who packs clothing with style and flair, that is not my modus operendi on this trip.
I am going shoe shopping when I get to the Ohio's. Their DSW's are bigger, better and have real winter shoes.
The weather will be cold to mild cold. Rain on Tuesday or Wednesday. Ugh.
And I need to find a couple David Sedaris books to listen to while I drive in the public radio dead zone, which is Hagerstown to Washington, Pennsylvania.
I have picked up two errands while I am back in the Ohio's. ONE is looking for drape material at Fabric Farms. I know, I know, the name, brings up all images of ducks and geese, and "Krafty Krafters" but you cannot beat the deals on gorgeous interior design fabrics, or what they charge for custom lined pinch pleated drapes. You can get two sets of double hung window drapery for the cost of a single window any place else. The workmanship is beyond compare. And the nasty old curtains that came with the house disintegrate every time you open and close them.
And Cookie is not a fan of the nude window look that designers love. No, no, no. I mean who lives like that, in a city? In the summer, if you go all Grey Gardens in the 1940s, well then. Yes. But in the winter? No, winter is for nesting and getting all snugly.
My life is not a drama for all to watch. You can read about it here, but you cannot watch it through my windows. Moreover, I have a clean window fetish. There can be dog toys all over the place and tufts of dog hair rolling about like tumbleweed, but clean windows are a must.
I have tried looking, everywhere, for premade, but its either Kute and Kunty lacey bullshit, with flounces and swags, or its this "grommet" bullshit.
And this house is a style that requires something more substantial than mini blinds. This ain't no tin can in a mobile home park.
My house is a god damn elegant 1920's, pre-crash, Dutch Colonial, in a fancy schmancy dignified neighborhood where the home owner's shit don't stink. You got that. This house has an open stair hall, massive sun room and two floors of fucking bedrooms. That's right, you got your living rooms on one floor, and above that two floors of bedrooms. Boo-yah! And the cherry on top? Four fucking toilets. And I have pooped in everyone.
And it demands not curtains, but full on hard core draperies. Yeah, you like that draper action.
Anyhow, with Fabric Farms you pick out the material, take a swatch back and then phone in your order and the drapes appear about a month later. And the drapes are TITS!
Wish me luck. Because if Cookie can't find fabric, then the people in this house may be the naked, and nude.