Looking back with Lot's Wife

Phony Marge pretending to like me Happy Brit on the way to Sardinia.  I want to live in a British catalogue.   I don’t need to be tall and skinny. I don’t want to pay for the clothes—I have a pretty good idea of what they would look like on me.   But I want to be standing by a wet stone wall by a grey sea in my 100 percent lambs wool coat ($1810) or walking down a London street in front of a 600 year old building in my colorful dress looking like I’ve just popped out of my flat, going to Sardinia for the weekend.   (Not actually sure where Sardinia is.   Don’t want to spoil the illusion looking it up.) (Don’t ruin it for me.) I don’t want to live in the Land’s End catalogue.   Land’s End clothes are designed to show how responsible you are.   Holding a glass of wine at the family Christmas party.   Phony Aunt Marge who pretends to like you but is going to talk about your divorce the minute to turn your back . ...

    Just love these combs from France!  Magic from plastic. Some people love shoes, some Ray Bans, I love combs

I'm trying to organize my digital photos and I ran across a suggestion that I do it by theme instead of the chronological method I've been using! It's like finding out I really do look better in sweat pants and baggy t-shirts with dirty hair!   I download so seldom that when a file says "2012" I never know if that means the year I got around to loading it onto the computer or the year I took the picture.  It's like looking at all your fat pictures all at once.  The guilt is just too much to deal with.  And guilt is a powerful asset when you don't really want to do something.  Guilt makes me want to go see what we have taped on TV from last night.   So now, if everyone is eating chocolate from a basket, it goes in Easter.  If there's a tree in the background, it's Christmas.  And if we're wearing shorts, it's summer vacation.  Easy peasy.  

What a beautiful day!  Two and a half hour walk at Jolley's with our adopted dog for the day, Henry.