"The more you want to hide and be on your way, the more people will insist on grabbing you by the arm and engaging you in a long discourse."
I have this appalling habit on this righteous planet. I love nightwear as daywear. There, I said it. Particularly my pyjamas which come in many colours and combinations. If I were the owner of this world I would make jammies mandatory wear. For everything. I envy the young of today who have taken this rule to heart and venture just about everywhere in their jammies and often with a teddy bear in tow too. My kind of people.
I have this long designer coat given to me by my generous benefactor. It is a lovely coat. Elegant. Deep turquoise, gold buttons. You know where I'm going with this, right?
I've discovered if I can jam my jammies (lol) into my boots, throw on the coat, glove and hat myself to keep out the chill and hide the bird's nest of hair, I can make you lot believe I am conforming to Senior Wear Canada.
So thus disguised I go to the local store today. And meet half the neighbourhood who are in the shop. This is the bigger shop on the peninsula, about 7km from my house and it has vegetables and fruit and meats and fish. I had to peel off the Aran hat to show the pattern to two interested knitters, and one of my card buddies had to tell me about the time he worked in Toronto and loved it, then an injured fellow from one village over gave me an update on the physiotherapy on his arm, taking far too long, and the shop owner himself was upset that I hadn't been around in a while even though I assured him I had, but it was his wife and daughter who were running the show at the shop while he had a day off and yes, they showed me their 250 pictures from their Irish trip. Mistake. He asked me what were my favourites and did I think he'd enjoy it if he tagged along next time? What should he see?
Meanwhile, I keep a tight grip on Da Coat which is covering a brilliant emerald green and orange jammie set. I have enough comments on my bright pink Uggs without causing the complete collapse of what passes for Outport Society with a surprise display of my unmentionables.