jam jams

I sent a text this morning to our “baby”.  When did time slip away?  Today, he is 32.  Yikes. That went fast!  When he was little, if you asked him when he was born he would reply, “a hot, hot day in July”.  haha, he was born in Alaska so you have to ask yourself, how hot is “hot, hot” for that area of the country?alaska

When did I become one of “those” people who casually sip their morning coffee while looking online for “proper” pajamas?

Oh, yes, I have a wonderful array of beautiful, luxurious lingerie.  Simply gorgeous stuff. Some of my pieces are so pretty they would make a grandmother blush.  Oh wait, I am a grandma!   I am fortunate to have a lovely selection of lingerie.  Really beautiful items, that yes, I do wear.

However, I am talking about everyday grown up, jam jams.  The kind of article of clothing that you would wear on a late to bed Wednesday night, pack in your suitcase or wear when company is visiting. No need for Doris Day slippers, just pretty, well made, lovely jammies.

Here’s another question:  When did it become appropriate to wear pajamas out of the house, to the store, driving kiddos to school, and apparently to district court?  There was obviously a reason this sign needed to be posted.  pajamas

It seems like the right time in my life.  I am going to make an effort to stop wearing the stretched out faded hot pink, extra soft “Arizona” t-shirt paired with the stretched out periwinkle polka dot, well-worn pajama pants.  It’s time girlfriend, it’s time.

This pair by Ralph Lauren has my interest. pink pajamas

I, like apparently, over 1 million other people, listened to a TED talk by Jennifer L. Scott. She explains the 10 piece wardrobe idea.  The idea is WONDERFUL and freeing.  I am starting with her gentle suggestion of a lovely pair of grown up pajamas.  If you find you have an extra 10 minutes in your day, I highly recommend listening to her talk.  Eye opening for sure, you know my brain is swirling.

I’ve already started on her suggestions.  I am purging.  I am the one girlfriend you have that loathes clothes shopping.  I really get anxious ( that’s a nice way of saying I throw a fit when “someone” gently suggests, “it might be time to look into buying some new clothes”) and hold onto stuff much too long.   I love the idea of just buying excellent quality items that surpass trends and are just nice.  I am tired of buying things just because the sale tag caught my eye.  I am tired of not knowing what will go with other stuff and spend my time on that.   urgh, just not my cup of tea.

coffee cupToday is an overcast, gray, raining day.  The perfect morning to sip coffee & shop for pajamas online.   I click the button to purchase a Christmas gift, and oh the perfect birthday gift………down the rabbit trail I go………….

The pajama struggle is real people!

In this together,

Chat soon.




good morning, boys

Very rarely do I feel old.  Oh sure, I have an occasional day when I dress a bit frumpy or I make a creaking sound getting up from a yoga pose.   I usually am very aware of my posture and my balance.  I make a habit out of moving with a purpose.  Earlier this morning, I felt old.  geesh.

In my attempt to stay vital and young-looking, yesterday was a tune up day.  You know, put a little paint on the barn, polish the apple, gussie up a bit.  That means a facial, hair cut, hair dye and of course another hour of hair highlighting to make it look “sun-kissed”.  Manicure and pedicure, great music, scriptures, 7 pages of an art appreciation book, amazing food and fresh air.

Feeling put together and ready to take on more of life.

After all of that, then sleeping on said gussied up hair, I awoke to rather JOYFUL hair.  Oh my.  So big and fluffy that I didn’t even bother to try and calm it down.  I decided I would feed the dog breakfast, let the chickens out of their coop and then hop in the shower and everything would be right with the world.

So my attire was adorable pajamas.  Top and crop pants that matched, little tiny black and pink flowers with a delightful black braid running down the front.  Very cute in the catalog, not quite as cute at 7 in the morning all wrinkled and askew.  Then I slid on some sparkly flip-flops for the morning jaunt to the coop.

Let me digress here for a moment.  When you are a stay at home person, you don’t see many human beans that often.  You don’t actually talk to many folks in person.  Heck, even when I make a trip to the grocery store, I mind my own business and sometimes even check myself out.  Again, no human contact.  So basically, it is me and the dog.  I will say she is very non-judgmental.  She is good with my “pale blond roots”.  She is good with me serving her breakfast while still wearing my pajamas.  She is pretty much good with everything about me.  ha

Back to my delightful tale.

So, I schlep out to the chicken coop, offered fresh water and food, gathered egg number 352, tossed down some watermelon rinds and some scratch and turned to come back into the house.

My feet were wet from the hose water, I carried a less than clean egg in my hand, remember………….my hair………..joyful…………….that’s when I heard/noticed the boys.

I say boys, because at some point in my life, young, tan, very well-built men in their early twenties became boys to me…………………

rooferThe neighbor next door is having a new roof put on today.  There were maybe 6 or 7 young strapping, smiling, polite “boys” wearing tight jeans and were lifting and hammering and moving and working ALL LOOKING AT ME as I came into their view from above.  Maybe I surprised them more than they surprised me.  ha

I was standing right there.  Big hair, charming pajamas, a dog and two chickens at my feet.

Man, oh man, in a split second,  I wished I looked like Christy Brinkley (at any age, really),  oh this old thing, just a bikini I like to wear around the backyard.  hahaChristy Brinkley

When the “boy” in charge said, howdy ma’am.  I just smiled, waved and said what any older deer in headlights would say:

Good Morning, boys.



I figured it out

cardiganFor the life of me, I can’t figure out buying women’s clothing, I admit to the universe, I loath shopping in general but really dislike shopping for clothes.   Mr. Right is much better about choosing and buying women’s clothes than I am. I have no idea why?   Just a couple of days ago, we breezed through a very nice department store, I spied a fun, happy, floral print cardigan.  I pointed and smiled and said, “what about that”?  He said “you mean the one, that already comes with a Kleenex tucked into the sleeve?” It was his nice way of saying, it might be a bit too “old lady” for me.  sigh.  It is a mystery to me.

Why does our immersion stick blender have a slow and high-speed?  Oh sure, I have tried the slow speed, who uses that?  What the heck is that for?  I go back to using the high-speed every single day.

There is a light switch in our storage room.  I flip it on and off for fun.  I sort of hope it turns the neighbors’ living room lamp on and off.  We have lived here 14 years and we still have no idea what that switch is connected to.

Why do they sew pockets on ladies pajamas?    AHHHH, that one I figured out.

After several nights of rough and tumble sleep (or should I say, lack of sleep), luckily last night I slept through the night and then a bit into the morning.  Good thing I have a Sweet Golden Retriever, who kissed my hand to gently remind me, “hey lady, that food dish isn’t going to fill itself, daylights burning.  Get a move on.”

I stumbled out of bed, tried to pat down my joyful hair and shuffled into the kitchen to prepare said fancy dog her breakfast.   Then I decided it would be easy for me to slip on my winter coat, step into Mr. Right’s black work boots and go let out the chickens.  They need fresh straw and water and a bit of scratch to get their morning off to a good start.

All decked out in my, oh so fashionable attire, I marched across our back yard.  (que the music, praising the angels above for a full privacy fence)  Good morning pleasantries were exchanged between myself and the girls.  Fresh straw, fresh water, food dish filled, a little morning seed scattered around…………all was in order.  Then I checked for eggs.   Hello there my beauties!

Gratitude is a lovely way to start the day.

Fresh, beautiful, perfect eggs.    I slipped them gently into my pocket.  Yes, the pocket hanging down below my puffy winter jacket.

Very fresh warm eggs, nestled inside my pajama pocket.  Oh my goodness, I could feel the warmth through the fabric, like a mini hot water bottle.

So, that is what those pockets are for!  I never knew. 


eggs in pocket