Lingerie & Motocross Boots
The slip I bought; soft and silky and perfect for pampering.
My grandmother, my Nana, was a really old fashioned, gentle kind of lady. She's the one that signed me up for deportment classes through our school, taught me how to embroider, cross-stitch, quilt... She also gave me my love of art, perfume bottles, tea cups and wearing and slips under any skirt or dress that I wear.
I'd of like to known her, when she was younger. Our mother always complains that we got the Olds after they had mellowed out, that we wouldn't of liked them so much had we lived through them when they were young and meaner. Nana sounds like she was a spitfire. Supposedly, the first thing she ever told our Granddad was that he was a drunken idiot - this as she was trying to sneak into the pub run by her Uncle. I don't know how much of this is true or false, since Granddad does tend to embellish the things that he remembers, but it makes for nice family legend.
Rowan bullied me outside yesterday; he wanted to go get his boots, and ended up promising to throw his cash on me. I would've gone anyway, really, just for something to do. But that just sweetened the deal. XD
The boots were picked up first, from a shop out on Machinery Alley (as I call it). It's all industrial type goods; ride on mowers, trucks, bulldozers and the only gun store in town that looks closed every time I see it. The boots themselves are huge, black monsters with shinny silver clasp parts, really stark against the dark colour. They come up to a bit below his knees when he wears them and make a hideous clicking sound when he walks. He's been stomping around the house with them on, ever since he got them, making enough sound to scare small children into crying. He's blindingly happy with them though - he just needs a jacket and those pant things so he'll stop coming home with all the chunks missing out of him.
Anyways, after we drove out for his boots he gallantly offered to spend the day "shopping" with me in the limited selection of our town. It was actually really fun; he ended up sitting outside while I went into the only undergarment store in town, just looking for something pretty. The ladies that run this store are old, suspicious types. Every time I have gone in there they've eyed me of as if I'm going to tip over a display rack or stuff bras down the front of my shirt and scream, "HAHA stupid old bags! Teenagers rock!" then run off. If you're not over thirty then you can't possibly want something nice. You can't possibly have the money for it. I swear it, I truly do, but those biddies do not trust young people. So, I'm in there, browsing around when I see this really pretty black piece - probably a little extravagant for someone who's only night time visitor is a stuffed bunny rabbit, but perfect for those nights I feel plain and just want to indulge. Long story short, the lady behind the counter talked me away from it. It turns out that that piece, and others in it's line, are all designed for breastfeeding mothers in mind. Humiliating, especially when it felt as if she was telling me I couldn't have it because I wasn't over thirty and breastfeeding. I know there was a good reason for that, but I still. My ego's smarting and I have a grudge to keep.
I ended up buying some pretty, dainty pink underwear and that apricot slip. It's a full length one, perfect for my lighter dresses.
After that I met with Rowan outside and we moved over to the new shopping center where we ended up doing the bulk of the weekly shopping. It was so surreal, crazy. We work well as a team, even as I worried over the frozens and he kept bumping into people with the trolley. We came home after that, packed everything away and turned up Kyle's music insanely loud again. It turns out that Rowan's insidious plans ran even deeper than a morning shopping - he insisted on going out for dinner; not even a night drinking, but just getting out and having a meal. That was fun too, though I always always overdress. I had - still have - no idea what's gotten into him. I'd say it was guilt, perhaps. Things like that, like Saturday in general, always happen after we've been fighting or he's scared that I'm upset. Either way, it worked. I went out with him and his friend today and watched them rip around the paddock on their bikes. Heartstopping, as always, but it really does keep him happy. I just have to stop worrying so much.