a girl and a suitcase
Apr 21, 2008
I’m unpacking. This means spending time with my junk. Souvenirs. Trinkets. Making mental notes never to buy crap again. Only invest in quality pieces. You don’t go to Italy for trinkets. You go for the food and the wine and the history. For silks and leather and glass. And, occasionally, for a handful of dirt from the catacombs. (I’m odd that way.) And you don’t go to Marrakech for the crappy little slippers you can buy in the arcade. Ughh.
It was so much easier when it was just me and my suitcase. When I didn’t have to worry about crystal or china or whether to buy pretty pots.
On a separate note, The Euro mowed grass the other day for the first time in his life. He’s 35. And he gave me permission to blog that.
