Time after time...

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So another weekend flies by in a nano second.  As you all know, I spent a lovely day in my friend Emma's vintage shop helping out and learning the ropes for when I am on my own (I am already panicking about this - how much damage can I realistically do in an hour and a half?  Time will tell...)

But let's be honest here.  She has many wonderful things in this gorgeous shop of hers, and going round the shop looking studiously where the bags where, which cabinet the stunning jewellery is housed in, which dress went where etc, what I was really doing was jotting down in my head a shopping list for when the self-imposed clothes shopping embargo limps to an end.  Within the first hour of being in there, I had already bought (virtually of course) at least three dresses. a skirt, a pair of trousers, a couple of jumpers and some shoes.  And don't get me started on the bags.  I confess that I did buy a bag which is sitting reverently on my chest of drawers waiting for its first outing but as this is allowed, I'm not feeling too guilty.

'When do you open after Christmas?' I asked as I stroked a particularly beautiful dress which would have been perfect for Christmas Day.  Emma finally conceded that she'd probably open up on the 4th January, so only another forty four days to wait.  Her shop will be my first point of call and I'll be round that shop like a rat up a drainpipe as soon as she flips over that Closed sign.

The best thing about working in Emma's shop is that you have to dress up, and it was brilliant to pop on a 1950's dress and a petticoat for the day.  Even better though was the fact that the dress was daughter number one's bridesmaid dress which had been returned to us the night before.  'That'll never fit you in a month of Sundays', said the little voice on my left shoulder.

Well yah-boo-sucks it did.  It was snug, I'll give you that, but I managed to keep it on all day without retreating to a quiet place where I could breathe out in peace for a minute or too.  

I came home with a lovely dress as a 'thank you' and took so much pleasure in wearing it on Saturday night.  It's a 1940's style dress and I wore it with a pair of 1940's shoes which the husband bought me a couple of years ago.

So Saturday was all about living in the past and I absolutely loved it.

On Sunday morning, I was reluctantly dragged back into 2019.

Coming into the kitchen for a cup of tea, he was on all fours with everything above the waist invisible as he was under the kitchen sink.  'The waste disposal has sprung a leak', he said in a muffled voice as the water lapped against his knees.

Aah.  Twenty first century problems...


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