What's New?

My purse! My purse is new!

I recently emptied the top shelf of one closet, where I had stashed more than a dozen purses of varying size and design. They were the "keepers," while others before them had already exited the premises to pursue their destiny via the neighborhood thrift store. The remainder I neatly dumped in a large pile in the middle of the room when three of my granddaughters visited last week, and they managed to choose all but three for their own personal use. Three more now for the thrift store next time I'm running around doing errands.

Which means next time Frank says, "Any other stops you want me to make?" when he is running errands for me. I'm soooo spoiled.

Purses are, for me almost as problematic as shoes. I love being barefooted, and so buying shoes is never fun, though I have to admit Kip and his crew at Foot Solutions on Pacific Avenue here in Stockton have managed to make it less painful than in the past. There are, after all, times when shoes are a must, so might as well find some that are both cute and comfortable... ish.

Purses, on the other hand, are easily dispensed with if you go most places with your husband. You just stick some stuff in his pockets and the rest of your stuff in the console of his car. This leaves your hands free, your lines smooth (though his are lumpy) and you don't have to worry about whether your purse is too big, too small, too fancy, too plain, the right or wrong color, or embarrassingly out of style.

What I'm getting at is that I have been on the hunt for the perfect purse for over a year. The one I've been carrying I bought on Kauai (where hitting every gift store on the island proved fruitless and I finally found this one in a tiny rustic grocery store, but it's almost sorta falling apart a little now.

So I decided to adopt the same attitude toward purse shopping that I had when I found Frank 35 years ago (I was determined that if I ever let a man back into my life, I'd keep him forever). But back to purses: Since I don't like shopping, I resorted to catalogs, and finally found exactly what I've dreamed of. Real leather, for starters. Yes, I love animals and am sorry for any/all unfair treatment of them, but in my mind putting their hides to practical use is a way of honoring their sacrifice, reminiscent of Native American tradition. (How's that for rationalization?). It's also just the right size, a gorgeous shade of deep brown that reminds me of my horse's eyes, and has lots of compartments with zippers and snaps, etc. It arrived today, and I am COMMITTED!

I can wear it with anything, and carry it with or without shoes on my feet. Best of all, never again will my lipstick or driver's license go through the washer and dryer in Frank's pants.