Okay, down from my lofty literary position for a moment and back to earth as a sweaty picture framer and boring person.
It’s hotter than hell outside, and my shop is not being adequately cooled by the little air conditioner that’s trying so very hard to maintain both temperature and my mood. After a bit of box moving and air flow consideration, I have managed to get it working a mite more efficiently.
This laptop is only six months old, but the E key is already starting to look like L. As a picture framer, I have all kinds of neat tools and things and will, at the end of the business day, shut it down and re-mark the key with a white pen to re-establish it as an E. No, I don’t need to look at the keys usually, but upon occasion, as in typing in a code, it is helpful.
Last night at the premiere I got the rare opportunity to seek out a pair of pantyhose without runs and wear the filmiest, coolest dress I could find to outwit the warm summer evening. Not big problems. Then came the shoes. I am a shoe fanatic, and have boxes and boxes of shoes that are up to thirty years old because I love them (how could you get rid of three pairs of woolen–one herringbone, two plaid—shoes? Or the orange leather platforms?). But to find a pair last night that would match a cream colored dress I dug out my wedding shoes (no laughing please; no, I couldn’t wear white–I was forty-two years old, after all!). Here I found a problem, with a half-hour left to leave the house. The little black rubber tip at the bottom of the high heel was missing.
Ever resourceful, I soon crafted a tip back on using black electrical tape, scissors and glue. I hope to God no one noticed that I may have been walking a little lighter on my right foot than on my left. But it lasted the couple of hours it needed to, and with any luck, I’ll remember to have it properly shod before I need that pair again.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology