To what could I possibly be referring? This week-end marks the official beginning of summer. And while for many people this means barbecue, beaches and backyard fun - for me it also marks the beginning of trying to squeeze back into clothes that may or may not still fit.
The real moment of truth should have come last week-end when I put on my swimsuit. But there was no full length mirror at the fishing cabin. (Why would you have a full-length mirror there? The fish don't care what you look like.) And although the "task" of getting into my suit did involve more huffing and puffing and pulling and tugging than it did last summer, I simply marked it up to not feeling well and being on prescription drugs.
Alas, the antibiotic was not the problem. It seems that my bathroom scales have not been slowly losing their accuracy as I had supposed. When I tried to "slip into" one of my summer skirts yesterday, some of the same tugging and puffing was necessary.
"How curious!" I thought in a bemused sort of way.
I finally managed to hold my breath long enough to connect the hook and eye at the top of the overworked zipper and that's when it happened. I turned slowly to the full length mirror in our bedroom and the harsh light of day dawned on my little chocolate-loving heart. There, on my very own hips, now resides the equivalent of the full contents of a ten pound bag of sugar! (These 10 lb. bags can only be procured at Sam's Club where everything comes in whale-size packaging. Now there's a word picture for you. Sigh!)
Yes, the moment of truth.
I don't know about you, but I happen to have in my closet a rather b-r-o-a-d spectrum of clothing sizes. I confess to you now, in the privacy of this internet blog, there are clothes in my closet ranging through FOUR different number sizes. (You will note that I did not reveal the actual sizes. Some things are just too private even for blogging. Smile.) This will certainly seem ridiculous to the few men who read this blog. But trust me, the women understand completely.
I've shared with you how much I enjoy being blessed to "shop" in friends' closets. I do allow the girls or Frank to monitor those shopping experiences because in my fashion-challenged mind, if my friend liked it and wore it then surely I should too. (Now you see why I need help.) But in those times of perusing wardrobe possibilities, I've never felt it necessary to ignore an article of clothing simply because of the size on the tag. Isn't that like irresponsible prejudice?
Therefore, "small", "medium" and "large" all reside together contentedly in my one little closet! Such harmony. And right now, in my current "physically expanded" situation, I'm thankful to have the options. The only problem is this, most of the things I wear for summer don't have the "camouflage" capability contained in the clothing of other seasons. Sigh.
Now I know why most pictures you see of little old ladies from Southern towns depict those ladies in only one of three ways:
- Sitting on a porch; sipping iced tea. (SWEET, of course!)
- Wearing gardening attire. (Complete with old jeans, long-sleeved shirt and sun bonnet.)
- Covered up with adoring grandchildren. (Another brilliant camouflage.)
Oh, my! I'm not ready to be a full-fledged member of the "little old ladies" club; so I guess I don't have a choice. It really is time to make the switch from chocolate to watermelon. I can no longer sit here thinking about how nice it would be to take a walk, then only walk to the refrigerator. And I must believe my old friend, the bathroom scale as she calls out to me.
Hopefully, by being honest with you dear readers I'll feel more accountable and will start working diligently at reducing that 10 lb. bag of sugar I had started carrying around with me. Perhaps we'll revisit this topic sometime in.... let's say - August. Smile.
Until then, hope your Memorial Day Weekend is truly memorable!