Bottoms

I’m not quite sure when the clothing industry decided to refer to pants and skirts as bottoms. This is the category we have to click on when shopping online.

Ok. These articles of clothing cover the lower half of one’s body and also cover (we hope) one’s literal bottom. But I am not comfortable saying, “I’ve got to run to the store and buy some new bottoms.” There is just something wrong about that statement.

Pants are a good option for the lower half of the body, but pants can be difficult to shop for.

Do we even need to discuss the issue of skin tight pants that show the contour of every muscle or lack of muscle on our bodies? I will wear leggings to a yoga class or under a skirt. But there are approximately three women my age who look good enough in them to wear them in public.

The other extreme is baggy sweat pants. When I see a woman in sweats, I almost always think, “She looks comfortable.” I never think, “She looks great.” Pajamas have traditionally been worn for sleeping. Some traditions are worth keeping.

Somewhere in between there must be a pair of well-fitted, comfortable pants for me.

Skirts are also a great choice for the bottom part of the body.

Any length of skirt goes these days. Some skirts are so short that should you drop something on the ground, you’ll have to leave it there or risk exposure.

I like a knee length or long skirt. At this point in my life, I don’t feel the need to show off my knees or any area above them. And I am referring to a comfortable skirt in which I can walk with a normal stride, not one which will force me to take little, dainty steps against my will.

Shorts are another type of clothing in the bottom category.

I have looked at shorts in stores. They are little squares. It looks as though the manufacturers have run out of fabric. If you happen to be a marathon runner, which I am not, these short shorts may be appropriate.

I tend to shy away from shorts these days. The whole knee issue comes into play. If I need something light like shorts, I wear capris. I imagine that capris were invented by some brilliant person, about my age, perhaps living on the Isle of Capri, who decided to cut off a pair of pants below the knee. But I digress.

Anyway, best of luck with all the shopping problems in this area. Sooner or later we’re bound to get to the bottom of this.

 

Consignment Shopping

I love going to consignment shops. It’s always a thrill to find an item you know you will enjoy which would cost much more at a regular, retail store.

I’ve gone to a neighborhood consignment store for a few years now. I keep waiting for the day when a neighbor says, “Those are cute pants; I used to have a pair exactly like those.” or, “That sweater looks really familiar; I think I had one just like it.” And then there would be an awkward pause. But, so far this has not happened and I happily outfit myself in these gently worn clothes.

There are pros and cons to shopping this way. There are some negatives. There is no saying to the salesperson, “I like this skirt. Do you have it in a size 10?” It is a matter of potluck as to what is available on any given day and you have to enjoy the search.

Another negative is that there are no returns; you literally pay for your mistakes. There have been times when I have gotten home with a lovely new purchase only to realize exactly why the person wanted to get rid of the item in the first place.

But the positives outweigh the negatives. Some items are brand new and yet are sold for a third, or less, of their original price. This is a huge score.  And even if items are gently worn, at least I don’t have to wonder if they will shrink after a wash or two. I can still get quality clothing for a bargain.

The best part of the deal is coming home with my new purchase and looking up the original cost on the internet. I put on my twenty dollar sweater and see that other people have actually paid ninety dollars for a sweater from this particular brand. I almost feel like a hypocrite walking around in the sweater. But not really. I mainly just enjoy it.

I’ve been shopping consignment for long enough now that I am appalled at the prices of new clothes at a regular, retail shop. The prices are outrageous. What if I spill on these clothes or tear them accidentally?

I wear fairly basic clothes. Some of these shops have high end and high brow fashion. My neighborhood shop often has clothing that is entirely too trendy for me. Once there was a Chanel purse that was from the Paris runways. It was a limited item and worth thousands of dollars. But it was a clear plastic box with the Chanel logo and some little handles.

Really? A clear plastic box for a screaming deal of only one thousand dollars. I don’t think so. Maybe it would go with the pair of extremely high-heeled boots I saw there and some of the other high fashion apparel.

I will continue with my consignment shopping, but I think I’ll pass on the plastic box and the things that might look interesting on a very young, size zero model. Let’s just say I’ve consigned myself to the sidelines of the runway.

 

 

 

The Dr Doolittle Memorial Library

“Were you here the other day when the man came in with a parrot on his shoulder?” This was a question from one of my co-workers.

Dang! I wish I’d been there. I could have added parrots to my list of animals I’ve seen in the library.

My list does not include animals brought in for children’s programs. It is a list of animals brought or carried in by patrons.

The definition of service or companion animals has become a very gray area. One need only say, “This is my companion animal,” and our hands are tied.

But, really, sometimes it’s a big stretch.

Service dogs usually wear the little vests. They are fantastic and seriously trained. We even had a children’s program called Paws to Read where the children got to read to service dogs.

But some people bring in dogs who are obviously not trained service dogs. We are allowed to ask them to leave if the dogs bark, growl or snap at patrons.

Untrained dogs – check.

One woman brought in her “service cat”. I have nothing against cats, but cats don’t always “sit” or “stay” on command. Thank goodness, my allergy to cats is not pronounced. But it may have driven some of our patrons away, crying and sneezing.

Cats – check.

Perhaps you’ve read my bat story (Gotham City Library). Yes, a live bat. In a young man’s armpit.

Bats – check.

Outside the library, I saw a young man playing with a pet ferret. The ferret then crawled up inside the sleeve of young man’s coat. About fifteen minutes later, I saw the young man in the library.

Ferrets – check.

We had a mouse running around inside the library once. One young patron offered to catch it for us. Sure enough, he caught it in a drinking cup and came to show us. He said he was going to let it go outside. I hoped he was not going to use the drinking cup again.

Mice – check.

Then there was a man who put a small, plastic container containing a black widow spider right on the circulation desk while he looked for his card. Why put it right on our desk? And why carry around a black widow? I held back from asking sarcastically if this was his companion spider.

Spiders – check.

Libraries are not the place for all these animals. Libraries are the places to read or research about these animals. It’s a library, not a zoo. We may have copies of My Family and Other Animals, The Zookeeper’s Wife, and If I Ran the Zoo, but we don’t mean for you to act them out.

Cross-Cultural Cooking

Our French son-in-law recently made us crepes. I thought they were fantastic. He was slightly disappointed with them. Not his best.

Cooking in another person’s kitchen with different utensils and slightly different ingredients is always a challenge.

Adding in another country multiples the problems.

My mother came to visit me in England. She made Southern Fried Chicken. It was really tasty, but she was disappointed with it. She didn’t think it was her best. The ingredients were different; not what you’d find in Memphis. And I didn’t have a cast iron skillet.

For me, I like making Shrimp and Grits. Forget the grits if you are in some other country. They’re not usually even in a dictionary. If I asked for grits in a grocery store, they may think I’m wanting to buy some dirt.

After our daughter’s wedding, the new French in-laws stayed with us a few extra days. The dad, who is originally from Cambodia, is an excellent cook. He was going to make us a meal.

They spoke almost no English and we spoke no French. Their daughter spoke English fairly well. It fell on her to try to translate various cooking ingredients and techniques.

Try explaining Cambodian ingredients from French to English. And then at one point it was like a game. We were trying to figure out a thickening ingredient for a sauce.

Do they have cornstarch in France? Does arrowroot translate? I’m wondering what they thought I meant by “arrow-root”. I hope they did not think I was threatening them.

He had adapted Cambodian dishes to France. Now he had to readapt to what was available in Colorado. I can’t remember exactly what he ended up using to thicken his sauce, but I do remember that the meal was fantastic. (He probably thought it wasn’t his best).

So if you are cooking in someone else’s kitchen or country, give yourself a break. It might not turn out exactly as you plan. It might not be your best.

Shrimp and polenta with Asian hot sauce, anyone?

A Puppy?

Our niece planted the idea of our getting another dog. She has a very cute, little dog that hardly sheds. She says a dog like hers would be a great companion for our older dog.

Our dog is definitely mature. She has hip issues and takes doggie glucosamine and chondroitin. When she goes to sit down, she can’t quite manage the muscle control and lands with a thud.

Her walks are shorter. She enjoys them just as much and still whines and bothers other dogs, but she comes home more worn out.

I can relate to my mature dog. I also take glucosamine and chondroitin (the human variety) because my knee has started making rice krispy noises. But I still enjoy my walks and swims.

There are some things to consider in starting all over with a puppy though.

It’s true our dog would enjoy the company.

It’s also true there would be a lot of work involved. We’d have to be at home at certain times to let the puppy in and out and to train it. It is a commitment. A big commitment. The dog could easily live for 15 years. I am 60. Are we ready to make a commitment to a 15-year relationship? I hope I would be happy with this theoretical dog when I am 75. I think I would be, but that seems a long way off.

My husband is all for it, I think. He likes dogs a lot. I like dogs too. But I’m not sure I like puppies as much as dogs.

Puppies do all that chewing and peeing and yipping. On the other hand, there is the cuteness factor of puppies that goes a long way to offset the work involved in dealing with all the chewing and peeing and yipping.

We’ll see.

If my husband and niece see this, they might realize there is hope. So let’s keep this from getting out- keep it on a leash, so to speak.

Does There Have to be a Rule for Everything?

People do weird things.

We have a code of conduct for our library patrons. It includes certain basic rules for what behaviors are not allowed in the library building.

But if it says not to bring in large bags or bicycles, someone will ask about wagons or shopping carts. Because it’s not on the list. They don’t necessarily pick up on the spirit of the code of conduct.

The other day my co-worker said that someone had reported that there was a patron in the men’s bathroom peeling an avocado.

Because the statement was so absurd on many levels, I must admit that one of my first thoughts was, “Perfect. I could just write that one sentence on the blog and I’m done.”

I think we have a rule against using the public restrooms for bathing. They are not shower rooms.

But we don’t have a specific rule against using the public restrooms as a kitchen. Perhaps we should make a longer list.

If the guy was not necessarily cooking or eating the avocado, though, only peeling it, maybe there needs to be a more specific rule: No peeling avocados in the men’s room.

And the thing about not using the restrooms for bathing. Ok. What about hair and nail care? And what if the hair and nail care take place outside of the restrooms in the larger library areas? Is that permitted?

We’ve actually had someone dying hair in the non-fiction area (it’s true…). There was an odor we couldn’t quite identify. It just seemed out of place.

If they went into the restrooms to rinse out the hair dye, they would be breaking the non-bathing rule. But we don’t have a specific rule about using hair dye in the building. Perhaps we need to add that one as well. No dying hair in the library.

I could write a very detailed list. It would be as long as a dictionary. You could go to A and find avocado and all the rules about avocados and then go to H to find all the rules about hair care.

Or else, there could be just two words in very large letters- Behave Yourself!

That Sinking Feeling

If you’ve ever had to make choices in building or remodeling a kitchen, you know the decisions are endless. Take the question of the kitchen sink.

There are hundreds of possible outcomes: single sink or double sink, stainless, porcelain or some other material, various spouts, various sprayers, various controls.

Considering how much time we spend at the kitchen sink, we want it to be just right.

For years I only had a single sink. I used to dream of having a double one. I thought my life would be vastly improved.

When we got a house with a double sink, I only used one side. The other just sat there. Sometimes I let dishes dry there.

One thing I do like is a sprayer. I like to to be able to direct the water into corners of pots or corners of the sink.

The only real drawback to a sprayer was when our children would put a rubber band  around the spray handle every single April Fool’s Day- so that when you turned on the water, it squirted right at you and you’d get soaked. And I fell for it every year.

(These kids. I wonder where they got that from? Their father, surely…)

Then there are disposals. These are all well and good, but they seem to give out after a while and then you have a huge mess on your hands. Disposals also eat spoons from time to time.

If you are ever in someone else’s kitchen it’s always a mystery to find the right button. You run the water and press a switch only to have the light turn on. This is better than going to turn the light on and having the disposal start up – which can be a noisy shock to the system.

Being in a different kitchen requires discernment. Sometimes there are gadgets by the sink you are not prepared for. You wouldn’t want to confuse the soap dispenser for the boiling water dispenser. You could end up with burned hands, or a really lousy cup of tea.

I’m happy with my simple, single sink with a regular, ole faucet and the sprayer on the side. I don’t really want all the bells and whistles. And it seems like nowadays they offer everything. Everything, so to say, but the kitchen sink.

Minimalism- Our Kids Don’t Want Our Stuff

What do I do with the trinket that my great grandmother got in Russia one hundred years ago? I like it. The kids couldn’t care less.

I guess I’ll be the one to break the family chain and get rid of some of this stuff. Because, to varying degrees, they are all minimalists. They don’t want that kind of thing.

I inherited china from my grandmother. It was a huge set and had a coral and blue design of little flowers. It was a Royal Doulton pattern which has been discontinued.

I never would have picked it out. And I had plates for every occasion- dinner, lunch, dessert, bread and butter, teacups and cream soups. It took up a lot of space.

I don’t give formal dinner parties. I used a bit at Christmas. But mostly, it just took up space.

So I boxed it all up and took it to a shop that sells that sort of thing. The person there told me no one really buys fine china these days.

It sat there for months. Then it became discounted from its already low price. Finally, I received word that it had been sold. I would get $150. This for a mammoth amount of antique china. The irony, of course, is that if I went to buy a couple of new plates, I could easily spend $150.

But I am really happy to have it gone. Sorry, grandmother, but it’s just not my thing. And there is plenty more stuff where that came from.

Maybe you have read The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up. This popular Japanese woman asks if your possession “sparks joy.” If it does, you keep it. If not, you get rid of it.

I have things that spark a little joy… But if I have too many things sparking just a little joy, I could have a power outage on my hands. Time to get rid of some of it.

I suppose I’ll ask the kids if any of it sparks some joy for them, or even sparks a little interest.

It will probably not be the hundred-year-old Russian trinket. It will be something I least expect. Hopefully, it isn’t a huge set of antique china.

Net Neutrality?

I don’t claim to understand the cyber world. I wouldn’t understand this new cyber-trading…even if a “coin-bit” me.

But I do understand it more than some of our library patrons.

At the time the idea of net neutrality began being talked about in the press, it just so happened that our library got new computers.

One man came over to talk to me. He was convinced that we bought and installed new computers so that we would be “neutral” and not controlled by the “the internet.”

“It doesn’t really work that way,” I tried to say.

“But you’ve got brand new computers. And you got them just as they started talking about net neutrality.”

I’m pretty sure this is how conspiracy theories begin.

Then the next week an older man came in with a younger man, whom I assumed was his son.

He started asking me where our internet came from.

I told him that our computers used the server from the city.

“No,” he said. “Where do you get your data? Who controls your data?”

The young man with him made an expression that was half apology and half eye-roll. I think he had given up trying any explanation.

I wondered what this man was thinking. Was he possibly thinking that our librarians would sit in a back room and vet all the information that comes across the internet? Or that we tap into some pre-approved data source.

Maybe I should have told him that all our data comes from the government. That it is controlled by a group of five men who live on an island in the Pacific Ocean. It seems like that was what he wanted to hear.

I have plenty of questions myself about what kind of control various large entities have on the information provided and on how algorithms funnel the information I receive.

But I know that buying new computers has very little to do with it and that I cannot personally control all the data that comes to me.

Besides, I know it’s not five men on an island in the Pacific who control all this. Anyone knows it’s really ten men on a peninsula in the Atlantic.

 

Timing A Marriage

It seems that most marriages have timing issues. Usually one of the couple tends to run earlier or later than the other.

Maybe you can tell from the wedding day onward. If the music begins to play and the bride or groom is still getting organized, get ready for a life of mismatched timing.

There are couples out there who are not mismatched -whose timing is similar.

If both run early, they are a power couple (both probably CEOs of their companies). They may be looking at their watches or phones to figure how long they can sit with you.

This is intimidating. Make sure your comments are short and to the point.

If both run late, there is no one to “encourage” the other to hurry along. It’s a wonder this couple gets anywhere. Make sure you plan lots of time for a relaxing conversation with this couple. Time is abstract.

But most couples are mismatched. The USA is a melting pot. In some cultures, it’s rude to arrive at the time you are invited. In other cultures, it’s rude to arrive late. No matter the reason, there is usually one person pacing around waiting while the other person rushes around getting ready in the last minutes.

My father was from a railroad family. He wanted to get everywhere 5-10 minutes early. My mother was not from a railroad family. He tried to gently “railroad” us into being a prompt family.

I tend to run five minutes late. Really, that’s more or less on time, I think. I am married to a decidedly Mediterranean man. He can be very relaxed about the whole clock thing.

I try to tread that fine line between “encouragement” and nagging. He takes his time.

Obviously, things like business meetings and catching planes are in their own category. And we all know it. Some people just wait longer in the terminal than others. And they have probably never missed a flight.

There are other instances where it doesn’t matter so much – an open house or party that is loosely organized. Those are great.

For other events, I confess to not exactly lying to my husband, but to “over-emphasizing” the actual start time of a gathering. For instance, if people say, “Come over between 5:30 and 6:00. We’re aiming to eat at 6:30”. I usually say, “We’re invited for 5:30”. That way, we usually arrive around 6:00, and all is well.

Let me think back to our wedding day. I know I was ready. I guess he got there on time, because here we are – 30 years later and going strong.