We missed the sun.

We missed the sun. (Another great name for a first novel?) We saw it this morning, even walked in it to the gym, and though intent on catching it for an afternoon’s expedition into town, were stymied by noon.

We know to expect the sun to be dangled before us in the morning and snatched away by midday, and yet, vainly, we persist in hope.

It’s pathetic, really.

The Philosopher has been putting off the search for new jeans recently, but I was determined he would be a one-pair-of-jeanster not one day longer (plus…I may have been in the casual-onlooker market for a pair myself). We bussed into town for a some store hopping.

Some places these days are pretty hip. One sort of feels hip just by stepping inside.

A cleverly disguised door.
Ominous looking man brings what should be pleasant news
I was glad to see that some of the mannequins in the Gap suffer from the same Short Leg Syndrome that I do. Makes buying trousers am-poss-eebl.

I felt pretty sheepish whipping out my camera in a retail establishment (is this possibly illegal? Could it be?) but I did it anyway. I even stooped to new lows by taking a picture of myself in the mirror while trying to figure out my camera settings.

How embarrassing. Oh well!

Maybe my photo documentation lent good luck – we walked away with two pairs of jeans! In 1.5 hours! New record.


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