Today I felt like clothes shopping. I haven’t shopped for myself in a while, being too focused on household repairs and supplies. But I could use more shorts, and it would serve as a reward for the yard work I accomplished earlier. So I drove to the Dress Barn, which my cousin introduced me to during a trip to New Hampshire. I’d never shopped there before that time, but once inside, I became a fan. So it’s all my cousin’s fault!  

Their stuff fits me fine and doesn’t break my wallet. I didn’t find any shorts, but I tried on a pair of drawstring pants and liked them so much that I bought three in khaki, black, and navy. Also got a top, 3/4 sleeve dark tangerine. But no shorts. Oh well.  I’ll have to try Bass Pro Shops.  My friend the bird watcher who goes on jungle expeditions shops there and I like her outfits.

A call from my husband put an end to the shopping spree. The plumber arrived, and my dear spouse needed me at home for consultation.  How come I  handled these things on my own when he went to work, and yet he calls me whenever a repairman shows up?