Swimwear (not)

I thought yesterday to yammer about the two fabrics I ordered to make myself new swim dresses, and I planned to tell on myself for selecting a wildly colored and patterned nylon spandex, which upon my selfingness would have proclaimed, "Shamu Rocks!" I was even willing to risk loss of liberty by pilfering the swatch graphic from the fabric store's website, confident Cousin Annie would bake me a cake with a saw blade in it, should the need arise.

But I ran out of blathering time. And before I could make my way back to the computer, the fabric store had phoned to tell me that selection was out of stock. Rats. Not one to make a quick decision, I couldn't tell the sales representative whether to ship the remaining selection alone or replace the missing one with another fabric choice. Moreover, I couldn't get him to tell me what time zone he's in, so I'd know what time this morning I could phone with my decision. Three times he tried to impress upon me that even if he wasn't in until 10:00 a.m., I could phone his assistant at 9:00 a.m. The fourth time I tried to discover his time zone (it went something like, "WHERE ARE YOU!?"), I was finally able to learn I can call at 8:00 a.m., if I want to. Whew!



So while my children can heave a sigh of relief that Mom won't be doing her Esther Williams impression in a clown suit, they still need to worry about the old milk barn.






Feeling all lavenderish this year, I've been thinking about painting the barn gumball purple. Now wouldn't that be most striking?







Thinking ahead, though, and considering how fond I am of pink, I wonder if it might be most prudent to add pink polka dots, so that we might not have to repaint next summer.

Blessed is the man that endureth temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life, which the Lord hath promised to them that love him. James 1:12