Posted by The Wizzle | Posted on Tuesday, December 29, 2009 at 2:13 PM
This is ridiculous, even for me. But I don't care.
Once upon a time, a frazzled little redhead went "on vacation". We won't get into it too much, but you know and she knows that a trip with three small children is not exactly relaxing. Let's just say, she was in another state and some people in her travel party were enjoying a vacation from their normal occupational duties. She was taking in the amazing scenery, the eucalyptus trees and succulents and gorgeous greenery growing out of the hills around her (rented) house. She put her kids to bed early and played games and watched movies with her family after dark. She tried - repeatedly - to keep her toddler out of the garbage can. And the knife drawer. And the fireplace. And the mini fridge. And the koi pond.
She was trying to have fun. But sometimes it was hard.
And one night, she was making dinner for her family. (Her kids were in someone else's care, so this part was actually a vacation). She was shaping her bread dough into a nice fat round loaf, and she had flour all over her hands. She had left her apron in the guest house, so she opened all the drawers, looking for the kitchen towels. She found them and grabbed the top one off the stack to dust off her chalky fingers.
No, seriously, the towel. It was amazing. It was fluffy, yet smooth. It had a lovely drape, a finely woven pattern, and was not wrinkled or faded though it had obviously been used and washed again and again. (You know how some tea towels from a store we won't name, but which may have a red and white bullseye logo - you take those towels out of the dryer and they are wrinkled into a tiny ball? And you try to hang them from your stove and they totally lower the taste level of your entire kitchen? This little redhead had lots of towels like that. The towel she now held in her hand was very, very different. It was elegant).
She squeezed the towel in her hand. It was...bouncy. It squeezed her back. She unfolded it to study it more fully. It was red and green and white, woven with a pattern of a snow skier and a heart border. (That was kind of not her thing, but whatever). And what was that, in the corner? The name of the manufacturer, woven right into the towel for her convenience!
"Yves Delorme!" She shouted it out loud! This would be, from now on, her sole purveyor of tea towels.
Her family came running in from the other room to investigate. (She didn't often make sudden outbursts in French, you see.) She related her discovery and passed the towel around so that every could take a turn admiring its beauty. She explained her previous frustration with towels that snagged, stained, wrinkled, and otherwise offended her aesthetic. Some nodded, some laughed, some wandered out of the room and back to the basketball game.
Never mind, she thought. It was her kitchen, her pet peeve, and it would be her distinct pleasure to acquire her very own tea towel as a souvenir of this year's trip.
So the next day, she took her husband to the Yves Delorme retail location (at the mall! They have these stores at the MALL here, people). He was hesitant to fork over the big bucks for tea towels to replace what were, in his perfectly logical opinion, the more than adequate towels they already owned. He was concerned about the expense, the potential lack of absorbency, the fact that her favorite towel had a chicken on it. (Really, it's not a tacky chicken. I wouldn't do that, and you know it). So she very carefully and lovingly selected a towel, blue and green, with a pineapple motif. She took it to her husband, hoping he would agree to grant her wish. He smiled, put his arm around her, and whispered into her ear.
"I love you. Get two".
Posted by The Wizzle | Posted on Thursday, December 24, 2009 at 7:17 PM
So, I haven't blogged in so long that Blogger made me re-enter my username and password. I know. It's shocking.
The thing is, when I don't blog, it's either because I am too busy having fun and actually living my life to document it much, or because I am clinging to my sanity by the skin of my teeth and don't want to let go long enough to blog, lest I lose my grip completely.
It's been some of both over the last month and a half.
I'm here now, it's Christmas Eve, the kids are in bed, the presents are wrapped, Santa is allegedly circling the house right this very minute waiting for little eyes to close and little mouths to quiet (because "he sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake"!) It has been a lovely, if chaotic, evening, full of dear family and amazing food, music and silliness.
And now, dear readers, it is time for bed. There's no point in trying to fill you in on all the details as to what has transpired between Thanksgiving and now. There were good times, there were crappy times, it all comes out in the wash. My camera battery went dead and we lost the charger, so I had no pictures to blog - and you all know how I feel about blogs with no pictures. We bought a new one and there will be lots of photos coming your way from Christmas and our annual trip to Santa Barbara.
If you haven't completely lost faith in me, check back soon for the skinny.
In the meantime, three veryveryvery excited Dixon children in their new Christmas jammies bid you so long, farewell, auf weidersehen, GOODBYE!