~~ Gift with purchase ~~

Friday, April 10, 1998

        Sharan wrote this morning that Pyewacket had looked particularly angelic in the last few pictures that I had posted, and she wondered if this was a true picture, or if she was just posing. It's definitely a pose. She's more like a little devil. In the picture last night, where she looks like she's gazing up at me in love and I'm holding her tenderly, I'm actually restraining her from jumping up and biting me on the throat, as she had just done a few minutes previous.

       Bob and I laughed about it this morning. I was up in the bedroom getting ready for work and he was still in bed and Pye was leaping on him and biting his toes through the blanket. I said that she had bitten me last night, sort of gently, but it still scared me a little. He said, "She's trying to kill you, I think. You're a rival for my affections. You know she doesn't like it when I pay too much attention to you." He's probably right. You can't get too mad at her, though.

       He was telling me last night about how she'll bite him, and he'll tap her on her nose and she'll skulk off to the end of the sofa and pout for about five minutes. Then she comes back again and bites him just a tiny bit, just the littlest bite possible, and if he doesn't do anything, she'll do it again, and by about the third time she's decided that it's okay again, and she'll bite him for real. When he really gets mad and yells at her, she flops down on the floor and rolls over on her back with all four feet in the air, and looks at you with those big cow eyes. "What, me? I didn't do anything, it must have been some other cat. My evil twin. Yes, that's it. Or, if I did do it, I didn't mean it, and anyway, aren't I cute?" It's her goofy-in-love look.

       Bob says he remembers when I looked at him that way.

       Bob was spending the evening out at John's, so I stopped and had dinner at St. Louis Bread Company and finished "Naked Came the Manatee." It was definitely worth reading, and a pretty interesting idea. Each chapter was written by a different Florida writer. Dave Barry, Elmore Leonard, Carl Hiassen, James W. Hall . . . It was pretty obvious that it was written by different authors, and I guess that was part of the point. I'm not sure exactly what the point was. If it was just for fun, and I think it was, then it succeeds. Like a round-robin letter, one person writing a page then mailing it on to someone else to write the next page, and mail it to the next friend, and so on.

       The plot concerns the cryogenically preserved head of Fidel Castro--or is it? There's also a manatee named Booger (Barry's invention, obviously), a 102 year old environmentalist who still skinny-dips, various lawyers, shady builders, scuba divers, and other odd Florida characters. I wanted to read it because many of these writers are among my favorites. This would have been a good book to take along on a vacation, when my attention span is unusually short.

       Maybe we should think about doing some sort of serial thing here, or at the new domain (which, by the way, still hasn't come online).

       Lisa writes that her son Blake's names could be:

       She then clarifies that Blake is a cockatiel, and says:

Any jutting corner he can reach he has chewed the plaster from; and if his parents get bored having their feet sung to (he tickles, perching on them), he'll lift one of his own and sing to it.

       I also stopped at Jones', a local department store, to pick up another Clinique gift. I didn't really need any skin care stuff or make-up, but I just ran out of shampoo and I like theirs okay, so I bought a bottle of shampoo and a tube of conditioner. It's expensive stuff, but I got all this free stuff with it . . . It's one of those things that are hard to justify, but that give me a lot of pleasure. I did finally break myself of wanting every gift-with-purchase thing that I saw. I used to buy things from lots of different make-up lines just so I could get their "free" gifts, but I don't do that anymore. Clinique is the only one I'm still loyal to.

       While I was there I looked at sterling silver jewelry, which was on sale (but didn't buy any) and handbags. I have a real obsession with bags of all kinds. I didn't buy anything there, either. I did ask if Fossil still made the purse like I'm using now--the wallet/organizer--and the saleswoman said she hadn't seen it this season. Figures. There's nothing wrong with the one I have now, but I really love it, it's just perfect for me, so if I could have I would probably have bought one to have in reserve. Although if I did do that, undoubtedly I would find something better, something even more perfect.

       They also had a display of the "Sack" handbags like the one I bought a couple of weeks ago. They're crocheted and I think they're great. They're also expensive. I could certainly make one for myself, although that's one of those things that I'll probably never do. I looked at all of them, and thought about it, and walked away without buying anything. It took some willpower.

       When I was in high school I must have crocheted a dozen bags. I wish I had kept the patterns. They came from Women's Day or Family Circle, I don't remember which now, and they were crocheted with Aunt Lydia's rug yarn. Some were plain, some had big Irish crochet roses on the front. I loved making them. Maybe that would be a good thing to do again, a fun pastime, although I probably wouldn't put roses on them now . . .