A Seemingly Necessary Folly

When Mr. Moon and I went to Monticello on Friday to celebrate our anniversary by early voting, he wanted to go into the courthouse to look up legal documents on some real estate. While he did that I walked across the street to see what Wag The Dog had but before I went in there, I stopped at a little shop right next to it that the last time I went in was so potpourri-ed and polyestered that it held no interest for me but I'd seen these lamps in the window that had been intriguing me for weeks, if not months, and I thought I'd pop in and see what they were asking for them. 
To my surprise and delight, the store is now a vintage place with some very old things and some not-so-old but interesting things and I wandered around to check it all out. There was nothing that really made my heart sing and I was about to leave when I saw that purse you see above, hanging with some other regular, more conventional purses, and it might as well have reached out, grabbed me, and covered me in kisses. 
I don't think I've discussed my purse obsession lately and in fact, I have not bought a new purse in well over a year which is a sort of record for me. Unlike my staunch monogamy when it comes to marriage, I can be tempted like a tart when it comes to cheating on my purse with a new one. 
I took the purse off the bar it was hung on and I did the thing where you open it up and check out all the pockets and the sections and, if it's a pre-owned bag, as this one is, you have to get in there and smell it and feel it and squeeze it a little. You have to put it on your shoulder and see how that feels. 
My favorite purses are bag-like. Or maybe sack-like. The leather has to be soft. Very soft. I don't like structured bags. I just do not. It may be that in a former lifetime I was some sort of herb gatherer or something and carried a bag I'd made myself from a hide that I had tanned and probably chewed until it was soft as butter although butter had probably not been invented at that time. 
Bags, bowls, and baskets make me happy. Things that hold things. I believe it's uterine-related. 
So back to this purse. It smelled good. Someone had obviously restored the leather beautifully. No stains on the lining, the snaps and zippers all worked. It was practically perfect in every way but it was so big. Big. Bigger than I need. Big like you could put two newborns in it if you had to. 
Or even just wanted to. 
I sighed inwardly and put it back with the other purses and looked around some more but it kept calling me back. 
"Mary. No one else will appreciate me like you do," it crooned. And I knew without a doubt that if I did not buy it, I would be coming back later to do just that. 
So, I bought it. 

It really is way too big for me. I hardly ever see newborns that need toting around. I could seriously use it as an overnight bag. Easily.
But, I transferred the contents of my old purse into the new one and that gave me a little buyer's remorse because my things in no way come close to filling all that space WHICH I DO NOT NEED but I now own a beautiful, soft, squishy, Italian leather bag that pleases me on some very deep and primitive level. 
If any of my children want the bag, I might give it to them but before I do that or decide to just keep it as an overnight bag, I want to carry it for awhile, just for the pleasure of it. 

I took it to town today and it behaved itself very well. I had an odd experience, though. I have the dress I want to wear to Hank and Rachel's wedding and I ordered a beautiful slip to go under it because it is shockingly sheer. The slip has gorgeous lace on the bottom which will peek out from under the hem of the dress which is fine with me but there is a flaw in the plan- the bodice of the slip comes up higher than the bodice of the dress. So I took it to the alterations lady who has done such good work for me and showed her what I wanted. She was horrified. "No. It's wrong!" 
Her English is not so good and whatever language her native one is not a language that I know one word of. I think our previous conversations have consisted of, "Try on," "I know!" and "Yes, yes." 
And I thought that's how it would go today but she insisted that it would be wrong to cut the bodice lower and I really do not understand why but she's the expert. She even told me- "I could make money doing this for you but it's wrong! No!" 
Okay. 

And so I thanked her and packed up my slip and I guess that I'll just be going to the wedding with a slip that shows both on the top and on the bottom and that will be the way it is. 
I can see it now. Someone will say, "Hey! Your slip is showing!" and I'll be like, "Oh no! Where?" Lily suggested that I just decorate the part of the slip that will show at the neckline. Like with fancy beads or something. Not a bad idea but I think not. 

La-di-dah. La-di-dah.

Shrimp salad tonight. The shrimp, eggs, and pasta are all cooked and in the refrigerator. I bought Bibb lettuce at the store but did some picking in the garden to add to it for substance and flavor. The garden really isn't looking that bad. It's just a little slow.

Meanwhile, the compost pile is looking great with sprouting potatoes and avocado plants galore.

And that spot gets almost no sun at all and is never watered so go figure.

Would you look at these roses?

They're my anniversary roses and they just keep opening and looking more velvety gorgeous every day. 

And I never even asked the price of the lamps that lured me into the shop in the first place. All thoughts of them flew out of my head when I saw that soft, soft leather. Don't know where I'd put them anyway. But I might have to go back and check them out. 

Love...Ms. Moon