Conquering Vertigo

Ah vanity, all of life is vanity

And gray slacks, apparently.

Richard walked with me on the beach this morning.
No nudists, for those of you following that story line.
We headed southwest along the curving enclave, looking up at the mansions built shoulder-to-shoulder along the crumbling cliffs.

He's been in a sort of shock therapy this week, having to purge his wardrobe to fit within the restrictions of our new closet space. I feel his pain. This happened to me the days immediately before our wedding, when he and Julie oversaw the dismantling of my cold-war-era stockpiles of clothing and mail. This begs another blog, wherein the pain and healing can be fully revealed. Suffice it to say, they watched me (and helped me) give away more than 3/4 of everything I owned.

So the man comes in with his bags and boxes of clothing.
Gray slacks.
Khakis.
Blue blazers with gold buttons.
Baseball caps.
More gray slacks.
Khakis.
Blue blazers with gold buttons.
Baseball caps.
How much space does this blog server hold?
And have I mentioned the gray slacks?

When I was a child, I was given a small black-and-white television set from Sears and Roebuck. The screen was 7 inches diagonally, I think, and there was a handle on top. When it started, a fascinating monochrome "color bar" spanned the screen, showing every gradation of gray imaginable.

Hello, Richard's slacks.
I know its hard, baby. Look at me and my closet full of black pants.
But I see you sneaking that 14th pair of gray slacks back into the "keep" pile.

posted by Woman In Love @ 11:44 PM