Bonita Beach

A Tragic Tale of Terry Cloth

In the wee hours of the morning I was reading twitter and picked up on a conversation between Sarah Cooper and Teresa Boardman about socks.  Since they live "up there" in a Northern state socks are quite important, I guess.  It's been decades since socks were of supreme importance to me.   Other than those "No Blister" running socks I needed for running my races.  Heck, I wore boots last week for the first time in a year because I was going to a hockey game; otherwise I'm in some form of "open toed anything".

Teresa has a blog about socks and the importance of their warmth and the fact that warmth isn't be compromised by them not matching.  I grew up in Northern Ohio and oddly, I remember mittens being an issue and never being matched.  I don't know if I ever had a pair that matched.  I just remember having a black glove with brown fur trim and I though it was the prettiest glove in the whole wide world and thought it such a crime that I didn't have both.

Currently, I live in Bonita Springs, Florida only 4 miles to Bonita Beach.  We have a similar dilemma to the sock tragedy, but it's with beach towels.  Every Florida mother suffers and mourns the loss of fluffy, matching beach towels at some point.  Whether scored at a great sale on towels or won a gift basket at a function, they were new and pretty and a joy to behold until lost or abused.  Nearly everyone in the area has a community pool if they don't have one in their own back yard.  Our towels get left at other people's houses, the beach, mildewed in a trunk, blown off of boats, you name it.  And let us not forget the pièce de résistance - seeing some random person walking around draped in your towel like they're James Brown, the Godfather of Soul.  Worse yet, going to visit someone, pulling up to their house and notice they are waxing their car with your towel.   And don't even get me started on Clorox stains.

So listen up, you chilly northern blogging beauties.  You have your issues, we have ours.  We're just a little warmer while we pout down here.