Sunday finds us two girls holiday shopping. We’ve left the boy at home because we’re shopping for, among other people, him. But that doesn’t mean we can’t stop by the coolest clothing store in the area just for a little look-see.
They’re so cool they’re not playing Christmas music. In the way of the universe, they’re playing Simply Red. Hey, didn’t I just mention Simply Red the other day?
I like this kind of magic where all I have to do is think or write a thing and I make it real. I wonder if I could use this power for something more important. I could set the world right. I could change the future. I could make Mondays a permanent holiday.
No such luck. My powers are puny and I am tired. (I had an idea to write about the beauty of repetition, seeing as I keep repeating myself and the themes of time and years and backwards longing, but, it’s late. Can we discuss this another time?)
We’ve bought a pair of bee earrings at the shop (bee shaped, that is, not earrings for bees, though wouldn’t those be darling and cunning?) and examined the chunky scarves (too expensive, not soft enough). By then we’ve shopped enough, I suppose, and want to get home. Our sleigh is filled with gifts. The bees fly home in H’s ears.
This song is still playing in mine.