That Sunday shine is a certain sign that you feel as fine as you look!

It's true . . . things did used to be different. I used to go outside to get the mail, bring in the garbage cans, even exercise.

But it's been a dark period of confinement.

I know, since I started blogging you're thinking, "all Susan does is tell, tell, tell!" But millions of "real" Minnesotans are just putting a certain stoic look on their faces and then feeling a little self-righteous about their survival skills.

Sorry. I like to complain a bit now and then.

I once had a doctor tell me I had a "catastrophic personality." I was a little hurt and asked if he meant it would be a catastrophe to have a personality like mine. Actually, he just meant I was a little dramatic.

But anyway, part of the problem has been (besides the weather) that I've either still been sick or been sick again. It doesn't much matter which, does it? Same result.

This wise doctor is advising a laxative to treat my cold. This is an angle I had not yet considered. For one thing, my head is spewing so much gunk that I'm hard pressed to want to turn on any additional faucets. On the other hand, I'm ready to try about anything. Even a trip to the doctor.

But enough . . . *cough . . . *cough . . . about me . . .

At least the view in my studio has been significantly improved this week by hanging up a wonderful gift I received over the holidays from my talented friend, Flannery.

She is one of the most amazing needle-workers I know, and actually designed this piece for my anniversary. The stitches are beautiful and microscopic. It is symbolic of Russ and I living together for eternity (the road is gold!) in a heaven that looks a lot like New Mexico to me.

I love it.
There are cool vintage plastic western charms dangling on the bottom of the frame. It made itself at home above my desk immediately.

And it was so kind of all my Phoenix friends and family to quickly invite me to visit when I started complaining about the arctic blast last week! Of course I can't come yet, but it's certainly not too soon for me to start planning my trip.

The first thing to do, I think, would be to venture out of this cave and do some blinking in the daylight outside.

This will help me be prepared to handle a week without the protection of two shirts, two pairs of socks and a coat.

I'll also want some resort wear to help me enjoy basking in the sunshine a little more. For this I've consulted a handy "Look" magazine, March 12, 1963 (my birth year -- I want to be sure I'm dressing my age):

The article assures me that "unconventional headgear and umbrellas are perfect for protecting vacationers from sea and sun." No sea in Phoenix, but with a giant cartoon face umbrella I'll surely be ready for any unpredictable winter showers.

The swim cap on the woman actually reminds me of something my mother and other women of the time used to wear on their heads for just hanging around the house and running errands. In fact, I believe my mother actually had a driver's license picture taken wearing something similar to this. I know she had (and wore often) at least two of them. One was pink.

But the one in this picture appears to be gold, because the caption reads: " the glittering 'Midas Touch' is by U.S. Rubber; a do-it-yourself child's cap is topped by an octopus made of a black ball and scotch plastic tape." My daughters were all swimmers -- sorry I never made you a cool swim cap like that, girls. Swim cap crafts just didn't occur to me.

This cap style is the "Shredded Cabana", also by U.S. rubber. The three-tiered "funbrella" is actually a Japanese oilskin bangasa styled by New York's John Reynolds. I'm going to assume 3 tiers gives me spf 30?

On a practical note (because Minnesotans are inherently both stoic and practical), I might enjoy trying:

"This convertible item for sun followers -- a three-in-one straw hat. The novelty has a zippered canvas extension that serves as a roomy carrying case or, when empty, as gay scarf-like trim for the hat. Unzipped (not shown) the canvas covers head and shoulders in Lawrence of Arabia fashion." Delightful.

The good news is, we're supposed to hit 30 degrees here this week, and Minnesotans will be busting out their shorts for that. Seriously.

But I'll believe 30 when I feel it.

In the meantime, I guess I'll have to stick with a look more like this:

This jaunty ensemble assures that I'll "arrive at the scene with every curl in place and hands warm as toast." Now if I can just drum up a "scene" to arrive at . . .

Oops! I should probably take off my sweats and put on some real clothes if I'm going out. . .

There. That's much better. Let me tuck a few tissues in my handbag, just in case . . .

I'm ready.

Hellooooooo . . . .? Can anybody hear me . . . . ?
Does somebody want to go to lunch . . . ?


Amelia and Justin said...

Hehe, fabulous! I do happen to know that my mother inherited two of those caps from Grandma, including the pink one. And those are what Chelsea and I wore in the infamous 60th Birthday Roadshow.

I won't offend you by telling you that our high yesterday was 78. It disgusts even me. But, just know that the warm weather is awaiting you after Baltimore :)

susan m hinckley said...

The problem with April in Phoenix is that by then it will be approximately 103 degrees -- perhaps we should all meet in Santa Fe? Just thinking of everyone's comfort . . . just a suggestion . . .

Jake and Chelsea said...

i do! i want to go to lunch with you! it was pretty cold here last week too, but i'll take -27 over -40 any day.

susan m hinckley said...

Shall we meet in SoRo, A.V., or Santa Fe? I could get us a reservation at Gabriel's.

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