Warm My Bones

I had this post open in draft all day yesterday and I couldn’t find 3 minutes to finish and hit the button.

Sunday was the first time in six months that the house warmed up inside to more than the thermostat was set. The forecast was for 60 or above all week except now I see at the end of the week we’re going back to the 50s.

I was dying to turn over my closet and put away all my winter stuff and bring the lighter clothes out except I was afraid of jinxing it. Even last week I was still wearing my wool and long underwear.

This morning I took something out that I haven’t worn in forever. I tried a new dry cleaners and these are the sharpest pleats ever seen in my closet.

Which reminds me of a story from a long time ago. I was probably in middle school and my Grandma must have been staying with us. She ironed a gnarly pleat into my pants – I can’t remember what pants they were but not the kind where you want a pleat. I remember standing in front of the ironing board in my underwear frantically trying to iron the crease out and weeping. “I can’t look like a DORK!”

I’ve always brought my dry cleaning downtown with me since the only dry cleaners I knew about in Vancouver wasn’t very convenient. There’s a cleaners near the office. It’s kind of a pain to carry home on the bus but I don’t have huge amounts of dry cleaning.

One night we were coming home from the market and Bob said we had to pick up his dry cleaning and directed me to this place about 3 minutes from our house.

“There’s a dry cleaners here?”

It’s totally convenient and the people are super nice. And they do a mean pleat. But I don’t look like a DORK and if I do, call the pleat police.

Last not thematically linked item that I thought of because I was just downstairs getting my Bi Bim Bap. What is the deal with wraps? Has there ever been a good wrap? A burrito is a good wrap but random sandwich stuff wrapped in a cold tortilla is a sorry excuse for a meal. The kind of thing you pick only because the only other choice is tuna melt.