Happy weekend!!! In case you didn’t catch on immediately, the topic of the post encapsulates the topics for yesterday, today, and tomorrow. That’s right, friends, I’m actually blogging ahead. Look out world!
First up, sunglasses. As you might expect from my current status as a resident of the Midwest’s own sunshine state, sunglasses are essential. Even when I lived in uber-cloudy Ohio, I still needed sunglasses. Believe me when I say that venturing outside without sunglasses will likely result in the top of my head exploding from the brightness. Too….much…..sunshine. As in so many other things, I am my father’s daughter. He wears sunglasses every day, without exception. I believe we once left for vacation, drove a few miles and then turned around so he could retrieve his sunglasses. Sunglasses are no joke in my family.
For the first umpteen years of our relationship, my husband mocked my need for sunglasses. And then he moved here. And within two weeks of setting foot on Iowa soil, we were sitting in Lens Crafters forking over hundreds of dollars for fancy prescription sunglasses. He wised up about things real quick.
Our current sunglass supply (minus his prescription lenses, which he wore to work today). See photo two for further explanation (kindly disregard the stripey boogie tail between #2 and #3. Mooster moves for no camera).
Here’s what you’re looking at:
1. My husband’s backup
2. My in-house backup
3. My in-my-husband’s-car backup
4. My in-my-car backup
5. My main pair
Everyone knows it’s just plain good sense to back up your backup.
Does that list remind anyone else of Monica’s 11 different kinds of towels? No? Ok. I’ll keep my obscure Friends references to myself. Damn whippersnappers.
I have an unusually wide head, so it can be challenging to find sunglasses that don’t squeeze my giant noggin. And when I do happen upon such a pair, I snatch them right up.
I won’t belabor the point. I could write another six paragraphs on the vital role sunglasses play in my day-to-day life, but let’s move on, shall we?
Next up, green.
When I went out to fill the bird feeder this morning, I glanced down at the barren stumps of my lovely little hydrangea and I saw signs of life. It’s been unseasonably warm here, so it’s not surprising. I was, nonetheless, surprised. Delighted, actually. I just hope he survives the inevitable late-spring cold snap.
And last but not least, a corner of my home:
This is a real point of pride for me. My mom has outrageous Christmas cacti. I mean, ridiculous. These plants are older than her children and have been abused, pulled on, neglected for months at a time. But they bloom. Mylanta, do they bloom. Great heaps of delicate, glossy flowers that will break your heart and move you to tears.
I buy a Christmas cactus almost every winter, and every year, it dies. I did not inherit my mother’s green thumb. Or her cool handwriting. So when I was sitting on the couch the other night and I spotted this bloom, I gasped. I have since closely examined the plant and I did not find any additional buds. There’s just the one. But that makes it all the more miraculous, don’t you think?
Have a wonderful weekend, friends!