At the end of each warm season -- sometime in October -- I mourn the dresses of the summer past. I put them back on her shelf, unable to accept that next summer she'll be too big for the apple dress ...
... or the denim jumper ...
... flower dress ...
... and paisley dress.
That all lasts until the spring Rhea Lana Consignment Sale. As soon as I stock up on slightly used summer dresses, the mourning ends. I stuffed the station wagon full of $5 seersucker and cotton twill on my lunch break and trucked 'em home.
Not two hours later, all last year's dresses were out of the closet and stuffed in big sacks. (Big sacks that will sit in some corner mocking me because I think I might want to consign them this time next year, but still). So much for the stages of grief. Now comes the season of watching the forecast obsessively to see when the morning temperatures will edge up past the long-pants line. (65 degrees? She can wear a sweater over it, right?)
Goodbye, summer '07! Hurry up, summer '08!
2 comments:
We love summer dresses around here too. Margaret wears them in the winter over shirts and pants. She hates the pants.
Post a Comment