Sunday, January 8, 2012

Saying goodbye with a sniff and a whimper


storm 042

Well, I’ve reached rock bottom.  If this is all I am able to string sentences together for, if this subject before any other is the one that occupies my thoughts, this blog is doomed.  Again.  And I had such high hopes for the new year.

I have decided to discard a close companion.  You all know I’m capable of anything, but this is to be a particularly brutal departure.    The object of my (formerly tender feelings, now only) derision is my bathrobe and it’s getting donated, pronto.  Yes, just after I find a replacement, right then. Most likely.

My bathrobe and I have had some adventures together.  About 2.35 hours of quality time and uncounted heaps of squandered hours, but who’s counting?  It’s only natural that I would cast my mind back a tad and reminisce about our good times together.  Go ahead and think of any cheesy 70’s song while you read this next bit.  I’m thinking “That’s the Way (I Like It)” by K.C. and the Sunshine Band will put you in the right frame of mind, but far be it from me to deter you from the Bee Gees.

Things I have done in my pink, 100% polyester bathrobe:

1. chased a bear out of the curbside garbage bin.  I wrote about it briefly somewhere on this blog.  Don’t worry, I was waving a broken golf club and hurling cheap garden ornaments, so I was totally protected.  The neighbors put API (Alaska Psychiatric Institute) and APD (Anchorage Police Department) on speed dial, just in case.

2. taken my daily walk.  Now, now: on a treadmill (admit it, I had you thinking I was strolling around pre-dressed in public).  Sometimes in my slippers or socks sans shoes.  And working up a sweat is no problem with the belt cinched tight.  It’s like a sauna without all the steam and naked people.

3. staggered to the shower after giving birth to a 9 pound toddler-sized baby.  Of course I didn’t feel strong enough to walk just then, but who can say no to those strict labor and delivery nurses?  When they strongly suggest you should shower, you don’t murmur “no, I’d rather sleep for 2 years, preferably heavily sedated followed by six months in a luxury spa,” you answer “yes, ma’am, right away.”  If I’m ever involved in some sort of battle, say against Mel Gibson in blue face paint, I’d want a dozen of them on my side.

4. eaten my breakfast.  And occasionally spilled a bit of it on “pinkie”, too.  Don’t tell me you don’t drop crumbs on your lap!  And please don’t tell mother I almost never put my napkin in my lap for breakfast (gasp!).  I enjoy living on the edge sometimes.

5. opened Christmas presents.  After watching the compulsory home movie afterwards, I determined that the camera’s 10 pounds and the bathrobe’s 10 pounds landed right on my midsection with a sliver diverted upwards as a second chin.  No more bathrobes during filming.

Upon further reflection, I have decided no one gets to film me under any circumstances short of breaking some sort of Evel Knievel world record or winning a gold medal for Indispensable Contributions to Gardeners Everywhere.  If Santa and I can come up with the door-to-door sales repelling plant, that should do it.  Though banishing blue tarps from Alaska (nay, the world) would be a close contender.  I’d start with the one in the above picture, which must bring tears to the hearts of all who see it.  On a daily basis.  Whether they want to or not.  Presto, brown tarp!

I haven’t yet decided on a replacement.  Silk? Cotton? They even make down robes these days, presumable for we dwellers of arctic regions. I do feel a natural fiber is in order this time, after encasing myself in something made in a vat for years.  It needs to be soft, slimming, light as air, and have a long belt, for security.  Sprints to the rubbish bin happen rather unexpectedly and we can’t be exposing ourselves to the neighbors now can we? 


Is your bathrobe polyester? Fit to be seen in public?


Sue@G.L. Allotments said...

Chasing bears sounds surreal to me who only has to chase cats from the garden!

Lisa at Greenbow said...

I am laughing. You can be the funniest person ever. I am sitting here reading this in my 100% Cotton robe. What makes this so funny is that I have done most all you have mentioned, except chase bears away, in my robe. I stroll around the garden EARLY in the morning too. When it isn't so cold of course. I don't go any further than the fence line in my robe.

plantingoaks said...

My bathrobe is actually my mother's old bathrobe, and was not fit to be seen in public even when I first acquired it.

It is light blue polyester fur which is about 50% threadbare. I got the old one when she was given a new replacement of the same design. We both agree that when new and fully plush it is too warm and bulky to really be practical, but I guess she has higher standards than I and finds the old one too pathetic to even wear around the house.

Personally, I love the plastic formulation: I can spill pretty much anything on it and it washes right out.

I'm currently debating whether it would be too embarrassing to bring with me to the hospital when I have children. On one hand, it's truly, truly terrible. On the other hand it's impressively more functional than any of the other bathrobes I've tried...and I know if I get unmentionable things on it they will wash right out.

biobabbler said...

Hee. What a sweet and funny post. Might we have a photograph of your furry friend before it's sent to the big closet in the sky?

I have a bathrobe, but have worn it maybe 10 times. Apparently not a bathrobe hanger-outer.

MANY years ago a "friend" bought me a BEAUtiful cobalt blue silk bathrobe w/long waist sash. SO elegant. And I lost it. W/in 2 years. STILL miss it. =(

I'd say get something beautiful that looks fabulous on you, 'cause it'll make you feel like a queen, gliding around your home, like Myrna Loy in the Thin Man films.

Kinda psyched to see what you get! And NOW I wanna go shopping!!! =)

Christine B. said...

@Sue@G.L. AllotmentsStick to cats, it's much safer. Or if you like, I'll overnight ship a few bears. I predict your cat problem will disappear.


Christine B. said...

@Lisa at GreenbowI'm a bit surprised 100% cotton persons read blogs of 100% polyester persons. And honored.

The neighbors would convene a homeowner's meeting to chase us out of the neighborhood if I set a toe beyond the driveway in old pinkie.


Christine B. said...

@plantingoaksI vote no for this simple reason: think of your posterity.

A hundred years from now, the great-grandkids will lament, as they pore over the picture albums, that I wore a bathrobe so ugly it would make a freight train take a dirt road.

I say we have a threadbare bathrobe bonfire.


Christine B. said...

@biobabblerCobalt silk, you say? I think I'm stalking it's twin on ebay. And I could handle a mere two years of wear if I get to be dear Ms. Loy.

Of course any excuse to go shopping is a good excuse. Just steer clear of the polyester.

I don't know if pinkie will have a photo on the blog. It would require washing first, so as not to cause readers to gag, and that requires effort. I'll see if I can summon some....



Pam's English Garden said...

Dear Christine, You have in no way reached rock bottom with this important posting -- you obviously don't see your bathrobe in the same light I see mine. Mine is warm and fuzzy and my favorite all-day wear for the winter. And I do take my daily walk in it ... around the garden that is (very early in the morning, before the school buses go through - don't want to scare any children). Must admit I didn't chase any bears in it yet. I will be heart-broken when I have to replace it. P. x

Birds, Bees, Berries, and Blooms said...

My husband got me a Woolrich berber robe. I thought he was nuts, but it is awsome. I wore the first one for 7 years, before he bought me another. I even use it as a blanket at night. You just can't beat a good robe.

Christine B. said...

@Pam's English GardenDear Pam, you are right indeed. This blog can always get more off topic, even than a pink bathrobe. I mustn't sell myself short when it comes to babbling irrelevance.

Just tell me, is your robe pink, too?


Christine B. said...

@Birds, Bees, Berries, and BloomsI am all set to google woolrich berber robe. I draw the line at bringing a robe into bed...too many breakfast crumbs.

Thanks for the tip!


Lona said...

I have to laugh because some of these things sounds so familiar. Maybe not chasing bears though.LOL! I feel the same way about my flannel PJ's. They are devoid of color now from so many washings and bare in places we won't mention. Since I lost a few pounds the bottoms just barely hang on with aid from a draw string. LOL! I hate to think about parting with them. Girl I feel your pain.

Becky said...

Perhaps "Pinkie"is a perfect subject for a garden blog. If you put it on a scarecrow in the garden and fill the pockets with dirt, you could plant flowers in them. Toast crumbs make perfect fertilizer. The bear will probably remember the robe and automatically stay away. The neighbors might think it is you out there and you will be able move about unnoticed in your new soft warm cozy flattering natural fiber bath robe.Perfect!


I'm thinking: "Seasons in the Sun" by who was that guy? Anyway, this song is emanating through my mind as I read your requiem for a beloved pink bathrobe. At least you didn't mention the problem I have with mine: I bought it circa 1990 back when the belts actually served to hide my youthful circumference. Not so now! Bring on the sweatpants. :)

Great post, Christine. I dare you to post a photograph of you in your replacement-robe! :)

Christine B. said...

@LonaOh, how could I have forgotten the flannel option!? I'm envying you your real 2-piece pajama set, Lona. I look like Huck Finn in jammie bottoms as they are never quite long enough for my 6-foot frame.


Christine B. said...

@BeckyHi Becky and welcome.

What you've suggested makes good sense, which also explains why it hadn't occured to me. My only question: if it turns out that this idea repels moose, can I tell people you shared it here first? You will probably have a statue erected at the botanical garden and a feast day proclaimed. No moose in the garden=my heroine!


Christine B. said...

@GRACE PETERSON1990? You win.

And I accept your dare, even though it may drive away readership. Can I be in motion, chasing something for example?



Related Posts with Thumbnails