Urinal Scouts, Pee Petitions and Unisex Bathrooms

Tags

bathrooms, humour, shopping, toilets

During this year’s Masters golf tournament, the author, Scott Feschuk, witnessed “a massive line-up outside of a restroom…that was not for women. It was a men’s restroom. FOR MEN”. But while there are often short line-ups at sports events and stadiums, the organizers had given thought to how traumatic a large line-up could be to these guys, so they came up with a plan to keep the line moving. First, they used ropes to keep the line orderly. Second, a friendly greeter (personally I’d find mindless chit-chat too great a distraction at this crucial point in the line-up, that being the head of the line). Third, “urinal scouts” – gentlemen, like parking attendants, who let you know where to go by shouting, gesturing, or simply leading you to the next available location. Some even bantered to keep the “mood” light inside the washroom.

This is a great idea! If there were “scouts” in ladies’ rooms, the trip to the loo at the service centres (especially on holidays) would be so much more relaxing. It would reduce the number of “cuts” in the lines, the tying up of the sinks to “fix” your make-up in the mirror (you’re at a service centre on the highway…how good do you need to look in the car??), and the “potty dance” of little kids and grannies patiently (or not so patiently) waiting for their turn. Without the line-up, I can be in and out of a bathroom, including washing my hands (with soap) in minutes, and have never understood the lengthy stay of some patrons in a room with hideous lighting, and let’s face it, antiseptic smells (if we’re lucky). Personally, I think this plan was a master stroke of pure genius.

But it could be worse. Have you heard of the “Right to pee” petition? Women in Mumbai can own property and vote. They make up half the city’s civic authority, a collection of elected and unelected officials. But women can’t pee for free in public toilets. A 2009 study by the Centre for Civil Society found that Mumbai had only 132 public toilets designated for women – several of which require repair, while there are 1,534 toilets designated for men. Women often carry a bag, knows as the “flying toilet”.

I’ve only had to “pay to pee” twice in my life – once near the Coliseum in Rome (and it was an actual bathroom, and not just the rumoured hole in the ground), and once at Versailles (I think it was 5 francs; I kept the receipt). I disagree with people using the bathroom in a restaurant, even if it’s fast food, and not patronising the business. Owners incur costs for water and t.p. so the least I can do is buy a doughnut or a cup of tea on my way out the door.

Unisex bathrooms were also a new experience to me when I travelled to Europe in 1999. My shopping malls have family bathrooms, but it’s really just a large bathroom so parents with children of the opposite sex, who are too old to use the regular bathrooms, can stay together. But in a restaurant in Italy, our first night there, there was only one room – several cubicles with doors – but only one room. I ended up washing my hands next to an older man, who looked more uncomfortable than me. Same thing in Venice, but some toilets were smaller and much lower to the ground (a urinal for men?)…but when I had to “go” in a long line of women who were too embarrassed to use the mini toilet, I politely asked for permission to pass and used it anyway…I must have inspired others because when I left, the line was moving again! Pardon the vulgarity, but I just needed “a pot to piss in” and I wasn’t going to get picky!

One last word of advice: “If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie, wipe the seatie”!

Photo compliments of: 13thstreetstudio.typepad.com

References: http://www2.macleans.ca/2012/04/13/another-thing-theyve-mastered-at-augusta/
http://www2.macleans.ca/tag/india/

I Lost My Chocolate Bar

Tags

chocolate, confession, family, food, humour, shoes, writing

It’s my 100th blog post, and I was going to write about blogging – how original! I set aside time, I “researched my stats”, and then I realized…I had a chocolate bar in my hand a few hours ago, unwrapped and ready to savour. It had been in my purse, in an open package, slightly melty from being in a hot car. Oh no! Little Guy was coming down the stairs, and I didn’t want to share…so I put it some place safe with the full intent of coming back to it. I even hid the packaging (aka the evidence). And yes! I’m still having an affair, but not with the frequency of a few weeks ago. O Henry caught me off guard in the grocery store. Confused? Check out Confession #3. But back to my dilemma….I started to search the obvious places like the kitchen cupboards. Could I have set it on a plate or bowl inside? Did I put it on the counter and cover it up with a tea towel?

Eventually I had to confess to Hubby that there was a naked chocolate bar in the house, and that I had absolutely no clue where it went. Hubby has the amazing knack of finding things that I can’t see, and which are usually in plain sight. Don’t ask about the vinegar! It’s an annoying trait, to say the least, and Hubby is so proud of it! That’s annoying too.

With Hubby on the case, I settled down to work on my blog, still hungering for my chocolate. He found it in less than 3 minutes…in the fridge, in a bowl on top of the egg carton. Ok, that’s a new place! And now it was a solid chunk chocolate, and I had to wait for it to warm up before I could eat it. And now I have to share.

So here’s what I can tell you in 30 seconds. I’m love writing – the whole process of it, from looking for inspiration to researching, to putting the words together coherently. I have a constantly conversation in my head. I check my stats way too often. I get really excited when someone “likes” my blog and when someone in a new country stops by (I’m up to 26 countries). I’ve met some amazing people with all kinds of passions, interests, senses of humour and styles – I look forward to meeting more!

My top 3 posts are:
(1) Chocolate Bunny Psychology!! I find it rather alarming that the most searched phrases all relate to chocolate bunny psychology (i.e., the psychology of eating a bunny, usually ears vs. tail first);
(2) Death of a pair of shoes – I guess there are a lot of people who can relate; and,
(3) Grannies gone wild! – does that mean there are more wild grannies out there than I realized? Shouldn’t we be more afraid?

There have been other searches that make me curious, like:
(1) “Will do anything for chocolate pjs” – why haven’t I heard of chocolate pjs before, and where can I get some!?!
(2) “I am about to wet my pants” – do I really want to know….?
(3) “Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I don’t think I can take another step” – I’m sorry your shoes hurt, usually it’s my feet that hurt…

I started this blog on a bit of a whim, setting the daunting goal of 5 posts a week. I’m still meeting them. Maybe I should have started smaller, but here I am at Happy 100! Thanks everyone!

“I Don’t Know”

Tags

shoes, teacher, family, frustration

Three little words that don’t tell impart any information, yet are used to answer nearly every question asked: “I don’t know”.

School will be finishing in just over a month, and by now, both teachers and students are counting down the days. Last week, I was thinking how great it’s been that Little Guy has gone 2 years without losing any clothes at the school. I washed and put away his winter hat from 3 winters ago…he has the same gloves and scarf too. It’s either an indication of excellent organizational skills, which bodes well for the future, or a testimony to the vigilance of his primary school teachers. Either way, it’s been great for the bank account, as well as limiting the inconvenience of shopping for seasonal wear that has disappeared from the stores weeks ago, even though the season will continue for several more weeks.

Last Thursday, I picked Little Guy up after school. He had already ditched his backpack and was running around with his friends. The first thing I noticed was his bright red and black striped socks. They stood out because he wasn’t wearing any shoes. So I asked him the obvious question, “Where are your shoes?” and he gave me the obvious answer, “I don’t know”.

We went looking for his shoes, but without success. Not in the classroom…not in the Lost & Found (which is like digging through a combination stinky locker room/thrift store)…not in the school office. I asked, “Where did you have them last”? The answer? You guessed it, “I don’t know”. Eventually, the story came out that his class had eaten lunch outside and then played in the playground. He had, for a reason that remains a mystery to this day, taken his shoes off when he was eating lunch…and now they’re gone. They were almost “dead” any way, so the loss wasn’t as upsetting, and I had had the forethought to buy new shoes when I saw them on sale. He went home in sock feet.

Yesterday he came home without his cap…he had loaned it to his friend. We looked in the Lost & Found, which has been stripped completely bare. The Public Health Department probably inspected it and ordered the school to remove everything and burn it immediately. We also looked in the classroom (with help from another friend, who dropped his puzzle and we all had to crouch on the floor to put it back together again. This little guy thought it was a lot of fun. I was crouching in a short skirt and heels, and by this time wanted to say, “Yes, this fun. It’s the highlight of my day,” but sarcasm is lost on kids). Little Guy finally asked the friend who had borrowed the hat, if he knew where it was now. His friend’s answer: “I don’t know”.

I wish I knew who taught kids (at such an early age I’d like to point out), that this is the best response to questions. At this rate, by the time Little Guy is 10, the “I don’t know” will be reduced to a barely audible, virtually incoherent mumble, with or without the ever so slight one shoulder nudge. I may start practicing it so I’m prepared for those days so I can use it against him. He won’t be impressed, and that will probably make me happy! I don’t know.

Morning Break Jokes

Tags

aging, humour, jokes, laugh, marriage, retirement, seniors

“Time flies when you’re having fun” and it’s true! Morning Break, the women’s outreach ministry at my church, is coming to an end until September. Yes, this is the Committee which I mysteriously became Chair in over 9 months ago, and yes, I am still terribly confused as to how that happened.

One of my responsibilities, perhaps arguably the most important one, is choosing the morning joke. So for today, I’m going to share 4 of the jokes that I’ve shared with the ladies, because let’s face it – we can always use a laugh!

1) An elderly senior couple were invited to an old friends’ home for dinner one evening. She was impressed by the way her lady friend preceded every request to her husband with endearing terms such as: Honey, My love, Darling, Sweetheart, Pumpkin, etc. The couple had been married almost 70 years and, clearly, they were still very much in love. While the husbands were in the living room, the host leaned over to her friend to say, ‘I think it’s wonderful that, after all these years, you still call your husband all those loving pet names’. The elderly lady hung her head. ‘I have to tell you the truth,’ she said, ‘His name slipped my mind about 10 years ago and I’m scared to death to ask the cranky old goat what his name is’.

2) Two elderly ladies had been friends for many decades. Over the years, they had shared all kinds of activities and adventures. Lately, their activities had been limited to meeting a few times a week to play cards. One day, they were playing cards when one looked at the other and said, ‘Now don’t get mad at me … I know we’ve been friends for a long time, but I just can’t think of your name! I’ve thought and thought, but I can’t remember it. Please tell me what your name is…’ Her friend glared at her for at least three minutes she just stared and glared at her. Finally she said, ‘How soon do you need to know?

3) Three retirees, each with a hearing loss, were playing golf one fine March day. One remarked to the other, ‘Windy, isn’t it?’ ‘No,’ the second man replied, ‘it’s Thursday..’ And the third man chimed in, ‘So am I. Let’s have a root beer.’

4) After being married for thirty years, a wife asked her husband to describe her. He looked at her slowly then said, “You’re A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K. She asked….. “What does that mean?” He said, “Adorable, Beautiful, Cute, Delightful, Elegant, Foxy, Gorgeous, Hot. She smiled happily and said, “Oh, that’s so lovely. What about I, J, K?” He said, “I’m Just Kidding!”

Victoria Day

Tags

driving, family, holiday

Yesterday was Victoria Day, a holiday in remembrance of Queen Victoria’s birthday. Queen Victoria reigned from 1867 to 1901 in the United Kingdom. Her reign lasted 63 years and 7 months, making her the longest reigning British monarch, to date. She has been dubbed the “Queen of Confederation”.

Victoria Day (a.k.a. the long May weekend) is considered by many to be the first long weekend of summer (even though it’s only May). For some, it’s the weekend to open the cottage or trailer; for others it’s the weekend to dig in and garden. For me, it was a great excuse to “escape” the city with Little Guy, and visit my family.

In past years, my parents have hosted a BBQ with my aunt and 3 grandparents, followed by a mini fireworks display set off by my Dad in the backyard. We often take an afternoon to walk along the boardwalk by the river and look for spawning fish, or feed the ducks. We shop for flowers, and we just relax and enjoy the sunshine, if we have it! But this year was very quiet. My grandfather is still in the hospital. It’s been a month since we nearly lost him, but while he is slowly improving physically, he’s losing it mentally. I’ve mentioned before – you have to laugh or cry. The future is very uncertain.

We have all been busy between family and church commitments so while we wanted to engage in lots of activity, even just stamping, we were too tired! Little Guy, as always, had a great time any way. He even spent a long time in the sandbox, and we did have a picnic lunch on the deck, and more than one ice cream cone! We even shared pizza and ice cream with my aunt, as well as a mini fireworks display in the back yard…

…and sparklers!

While the trip down Friday night was nearly 4 hours (instead of the usual 2 1/2), it was only just under 4 hours coming home (that included going cross-country for awhile since the highway was stopped due to a car fire, 2 pit stops, and 1 stop to check the map). While it’s tempting to make the visit last as long as possible, the hours spent on the highway almost make it not worth it. I’m glad we left before lunch or it could have been an even longer trip. I’m also glad we had an ice-cream cone before we hit the road!

I’m back in full swing again with a long list of things to do today, but it was still great to have a reason to celebrate.

Reference: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queen_Victoria

I survived Mountain Biking!

Tags

adventure, biking, family, food, humour, midlife crisis

I survived and I’m still (more or less) intact!

The morning started a bit overcast, but once Little Guy was at school, Hubby started putting the bike rack on his car (“Nice rack, baby”) and loading our bikes. Mine is so small it barely fits…and it’s steel, not aluminum, so it’s heavier to lift (and take up the hills). He even took it for a ride to adjust the gears so I wasn’t starting in 5th gear. Meanwhile, I was digging for something to wear (it’s important to at least look the part), and to find my helmet, garden gloves (I chose the blue ones to match my outfit – I’m such a girl), as well as my book, and hair barrettes. I took a dose of ibuprofen and used the bathroom several times – pre-emptive strikes!

On the way, Hubby offered this advice: Don’t start in high gear – kick into ‘granny’ gear b/f stopping. Going uphill, kick into ‘granny’ gear before slowing down too much and it starts to hurt! Likewise, going down or on the flat before a hill, pick a higher gear. No “wind milling”. Got it! Now how do I change gears?

My bike is the clean, white one!

We started with a gradual slope, but around the corner it got steeper. Hubby told me I’d be breathing heavy in 30 seconds…it was more like 15 seconds! And I scrubbed my calf on a pedal, drawing blood in a claw-like scratch. My first injury. Woo hoo!

We went down another path that was supposedly easier that the first, with a mixture of meandering ups and downs. I loved the speed and heightened senses going down, the same rush as when I was a kid. It would have been even better if I could quit hitting the biggest rocks and tree limbs on the path. I know you’re not supposed to look at the obstacles so you don’t steer into them, but I seemed to hit every single one anyway! I usually didn’t make it up the hill – it would depend on how steep it was, as well as how rubbery my legs were feeling. It got remarkably easier as we went along. I figured out how to change gears most of the time (change to 1, not 7)…at times it was as if I wasn’t riding at all.

Oh, yeah! Hubby offered to help a couple of times. We took several breaks and enjoyed the atmosphere – flowers, birds, chipmunks, mosquitoes…

Finally we reached a fairly straight path along the bottom of the valley, where a boardwalk had been built in places. Hubby yelled back simple instructions as I raced along, “just pop the front wheel when you hit the edge of the bridge and keep going”. No problem – pop the wheel, stop suddenly and fall sideways off the bridge. Don’t worry – the thick mud and clay, and the multiple rotten tree limbs and branches broke my fall. I only slid a short distance because the tree my head bounced off was pretty solid! I just lay there awhile, giving Hubby a thumbs-up so he knew I was still alive. He pulled my bike out of the mud, the handle at least 2″ deep in mud, and helped haul me up as well. I had flown a pretty good distance, plus it was downhill off the side of that bridge. I was a little covered in mud all the way around my shoulder, down one arm, down one leg and…where was my shoe?

We kept going but at the next bridge, I wrenched my shoulder (already in full arthritic flare-up) so I suggested we head back to the car. And yes, I did make it on to the wooden path this time! We had covered quite a distance (for me) and I remembered at least one long run that I had to struggle back up! I didn’t even try – I walked it!

Coming out from the parking lot, we met a farmer at an intersection on the edge of the village. He accelerated and dumped his load of hay, so Hubby went out to help him. I was less embarrassed when we went in the village diner for a bite because I wasn’t the only one dishevelled and covered in nature! We ended our “tour” with a banquet burger with everything on it! I earned it! Home to clean up, pack and head out of town to my parents for the long weekend (it ended up only being a 4 hour drive).

I survived the adventure – and I have lots of scratches and bruises to prove it. Lots of pretty colours! And I would do it again in a heart beat!

Wish Me Luck: Mountain Biking?

Tags

adventure, biking, family, humour, laugh, midlife crisis

If I don’t post on Monday, you will know that I have perished in my latest adventure. I wish you all the very best, and I have so enjoyed becoming part of the blogging community. I have met many interesting people, with eclectic passions, and I have been richly blessed by you. Thank you!

Hubby took the day off and is very excited that I agreed to go mountain biking with him. He took it up last year as either part of his mid-life crisis, or his brothers…? I’m not really sure.

Last summer, we all bought new bikes and I did ride mine…for maybe a minute. I can’t tell you when I rode a bike before that. I used to ride my bike a lot when I was a kid. I loved to fly down the hills, and when I got older, I would take long leisurely rides along the country road on the outskirts of town. Then Big Guy came along and all my energy went into school and keeping up with him! And when we moved to the city, I was terrified of taking my bike out even on the sidewalks. I remember running behind Big Guy teaching him to ride, and in high school, he confidently rode on the city streets.

So, over 20 years later, my red 10-speed bike is still sitting in the shed, totally seized up. Hence, the new bike. I’ve been slowly seizing up over the years too, and I’m curious to see just how well this adventure goes. It could be good for a laugh. I’ll pack a book and a snack in case I don’t get too far – I can always sit in the car while Hubby does his run. I have no issues with peeing in the bushes. Otherwise, I’ve given him permission to bury my body in the woods – it would be easier than trying to drag me up and down the hills, although I’m close to 10 lbs lighter than last year. He might come back for me….we’ll never know.

Potato Soufflé

Tags

cooking, food

Well, I tried another recipe recently, but I’m not sure if it was a success or a failure. I printed this recipe from a website for a kid’s TV show we had watched one lazy Sunday afternoon. On the show, they had demonstrated how to make Potato Soufflé using left over mashed potatoes. Judging by my publicly recorded track record, how hard could it really be, right?

Ingredients:
2 cups leftover mashed potatoes
Salt & pepper to taste
Pinch of nutmeg
2 tbsp. grated parmesan cheese
4 eggs, separated
Pinch cream of tartar
1 tbsp. parmesan cheese
1 ½ tbsp. chopped chives
1 tbsp. butter, to butter ramekins
2 tbsp. breadcrumbs, for coating ramekins
Breadcrumbs and parmesan for sprinkling on soufflés

Instructions:
1) Grease ramekins. Dust bottom and sides with 1 tbsp. breadcrumbs. Swirl crumbs to coats evenly and remove excess. Alternatively, use a muffin tin – that’s what I did!

2) Separate the egg yolks and egg whites. Season the egg yolks with salt and pepper.

3) With a whisk, whip the egg whites until they are foamy. Add a pinch of cream of tartar and continue to whip until peaks form. In other words, whip it until your arm is about to fall off, then change arms. When the second arm is about to fall off, switch again and keep whip with the arm that is already screaming!

3) Fold the yolk mixture thoroughly into mashed potatoes. Add the parmesan cheese, nutmeg, and 1 tbsp. of chopped chives to the mashed potato mixture. (I didn’t use any chives, forgetting that I had some in my garden. It would have made a difference to the flavour).

4) Add ¼ of the whipped egg whites to the mashed potato mixture. Using a spatula or large slotted spoon, fold the whipped egg whites into the mashed potato mixture by moving the spatula under and over the mixture. Gently, thoroughly and quickly fold in the remaining egg whites. The folding action will help keep the mixture light and airy for a light and airy soufflé.

5) Spoon it evenly into the prepared ramekins. Sprinkle remaining breadcrumbs and parmesan cheese on the top. Place on baking sheet and bake 18 to 20 minutes or until golden brown. Serve immediately.

On the plus side, I can say I baked soufflé (even though it was a “cheaty” recipe). They were golden brown…and maintained the shape of an actual muffin. That seemed kind of weird, but then the fear with soufflés is that they will “fall” and these things could be whipped at the wall and they wouldn’t fall. The texture and flavour, though a bit bland, was very reminiscent of quiche. I basically made muffin shaped quiche. Another time I would be very tempted to add bacon, cheddar, minced onion…oh wait, that just means I’ll be making a complicated, labour-intensive muffin-shaped quiche. Does this mean I will make this again? Probably not, the reason being that even though I sprayed my muffin tins with oil, they stuck badly. In fact, it took me well over a week, several attempts at both soaking and scrubbing, and banging it on the counter top while screaming in frustration, before I saved the muffin pan from the inevitable – being thrown into the driveway before I ran over it several times. Have I ever mentioned that I can find baking stressful?

Reference: tastebudstv.com

“La Village” – Part Two

Tags

cheese, chocolate, family, food, friends, girls night, shopping, sweets

“L’Appetito Vien Mangiano – the appetite comes while you’re eating”. After our shopping trip (see Part I in “La Village”), we arrived at our favourite Italian restaurant with big appetites. It was 9:00 p.m.

The restaurant was buzzing with activity when we arrived. We were soon escorted to a corner booth with soft seats that could easily have fit more. We felt like celebrities! The walls were covered in vintage black and white, and colourized photos of families and family occasions – lots of happy faces. We had happy faces too – and wet chins. The aroma of fresh herbs, savoury meat, and rich tomato sauce was making all of us drool.

The menu says “Chi se move mangia E chi sta fermo secca – he who moves eats. He who stands still dries up”. We had done our fair share of moving in “La Village” so we were ready to eat. It didn’t take us long to make our selections.

We munched on crusty bread dipped in olive oil and balsamic vinaigrette and chatted until our appetizer arrived. We shared 2 large, battered and lightly deep fried (how do you lightly deep fry anything?) mozzarella balls stuffed with tomato risotto and peas. Peas? Yup – sounded weird to us too, but it tasted really good. As we pulled them apart, the melted cheese stretched and oozed, engaging my visual senses too.

Our main course was served up Family style” – put it all in the middle and dig in. We shared:

1) Insalata of mixed greens, chévre, roasted red peppers, and toasted walnuts tossed in balsamic vinaigrette;
2) Penne with grilled chicken, mushrooms, spinach, and cherry tomatoes, tossed in a white wine, garlic, and grana padano sauce;
3) Rigatoni mezzi with oven dried tomatoes, roasted eggplant, arugula, and ricotta di bufala, tossed in olive oil and a tomato sauce; and,
4) Thin-crust pizza with gorgonzola, pears, caramelized onions, walnuts, and arugula.

So goooood!

We thought we were too full for dessert…One friend commented that now she understood what her kids meant when they said they were too full to finish their meal…but they had room for dessert. There’s always room for dessert! We finished the eating portion of our evening by sharing a small chocolate mousse cake with gelato. The gelato was so light, with a hint of lemon. And even though the cake was only two-bite-sized, it was creamy and rich.

Before I left for my Girls’ Night Out, Hubby has asked me what time he might expect me home. I told him “late”. I was home by 12:30 (2 ½ hours past my bedtime). I was right!

“La Village”

Tags

friends, girls night, laugh, little black dress, shoes, shopping

Saturday Night was Girls’ Night Out at La Village (aka Value Village). So here are the rules:
1) Everyone gets their own cart. Baskets are too small!
2) Shop in an orderly procession, like a train, starting with the first row of racks. Proceed down one row and back up the next.
3) When shopping, look for items for both yourself, and for the others. Use discretion when inquiring about sizes!
4) While shopping, keep your eyes open for hideous items that would suit the personality of your other shoppers (or are just plain too outrageous to pass by). Slip them into your friends’ carts when they aren’t looking. Intimate apparel, bathing suits and pajamas are off-limits.
5) Clothes first – shoes last.
6) When it’s time to try on clothes (usually because the store will be closing soon), proceed to the dressing room in orderly, train-like fashion.
7) If in doubt about the fit of an item, ask someone else to check you out.
8) Unless the “hideous” or costume-like outfit chosen for you by one of your friends is not totally inappropriate to be seen outside the dressing room, you must notify your friends that you are coming out, and when they are ready…come out! Alternatively, if the item is appropriate to show your friends, but not the whole store, have them congregate outside the dressing room door and peek in. Let the laughter begin!

This time around, someone put a black lace, strapless mini dress in my cart, so I put it on and I showed it off. In the words of one friend, “Move over Jessica Rabbit”! Ok, I’m not exactly built like Jessica Rabbit, but I appreciated the sentiment behind the compliment! The other items modelled (by the others) included a Ralph Lauren sweater – that looked like a patchwork quilt from the 1980′s, a red felt shift dress dubbed the “Mrs. Claus”, and a backless, black “flapper” dress complete with fringe. We hurried because there were other shoppers waiting to try stuff on, but I was still impressed with how much fun they were having along with us.

Once we finished trying on our items and have made our selections, we piled everything in one cart so that the person with the 30% off coupon can pay. She often pays with rolls of coins – I’m not sure why! The pile of loot is sorted later in the evening, and we pay our bills. I am still dreaming on a pair of turquoise heels, much too high for me, with a wide ankle band with a buckle. I have no where to wear them but they were lovely! I’ve just developed a “thing” for shoes – but I think it’s because, no matter what shape I’m in (round is a shape too, you know), shoes always fit!

It was just coincidence that La Village night landed on the same weekend as my other Girls’ Night Out, but it was a great way to “celebrate” Mother’s Day. We didn’t close the store this time – but it was close. After shopping, comes food – but that’s a post for another day!