It's the little things
I have always believed (and still do) that it's the little things that make a house a home. Still, now that I am away for most of each week, it has caught me off guard to find the things I miss. Of course I miss the Children (but listen, you two. That squabbling has GOT to go. When I am only home for a weekend, you could pretend to agree. It would be a nice gesture. It is OK if it is not sincere. Really. I am not asking for miracles here.)
The other things, things like a well-stocked medicine cabinet (would you believe I was caught without a Band-Aid?), a good reading lamp next to a comfortable chair (you can have one or the other at my place, but not both) or a generous supply of batteries in different sizes... these are things I would not have thought to miss. But the one thing that truly makes me feel edgy?
The absence of a decent-sized mirror.
Anyone who knows me knows I don't spend much time primping. Even the woman who cuts my hair knows I'm a "wash & go" kind of gal. It is not that I gaze lovingly at my reflection at every possible opportunity (although December's flower is the narcissus. The irony is not lost on me.) but I've gotten used to being able to check the whole package before venturing out into the world every morning. The little medicine chest mirror? Not so good for that. In some vague way, not being able to see if I'm trailing toilet paper has thrown me off balance.
And I've just discovered, as I was getting ready to make myself a tuna sandwich, that I also miss having a can opener.
The other things, things like a well-stocked medicine cabinet (would you believe I was caught without a Band-Aid?), a good reading lamp next to a comfortable chair (you can have one or the other at my place, but not both) or a generous supply of batteries in different sizes... these are things I would not have thought to miss. But the one thing that truly makes me feel edgy?
The absence of a decent-sized mirror.
Anyone who knows me knows I don't spend much time primping. Even the woman who cuts my hair knows I'm a "wash & go" kind of gal. It is not that I gaze lovingly at my reflection at every possible opportunity (although December's flower is the narcissus. The irony is not lost on me.) but I've gotten used to being able to check the whole package before venturing out into the world every morning. The little medicine chest mirror? Not so good for that. In some vague way, not being able to see if I'm trailing toilet paper has thrown me off balance.
And I've just discovered, as I was getting ready to make myself a tuna sandwich, that I also miss having a can opener.
posted by Gail | 9:42 PM
2 Comments:
Well, just know that we are missing YOU!
who is jan? she doesn't live in our house... unless it's an alias of the cat.
anyway, i used the jazzy stuff to make my hair more... hirable. i don't think anyone wants a 16 year old waitress with orange hair. it worked a treat. by hair is no longer orange but a slightly orangish dark blonde. i only used about half the bottle.
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