My friends Ed and Evelyn were visiting friends in Connecticut, or the Nutmeg State, as Ed put it.
Such an apt name for the place of my birth, was my instant reply.
Connecticut sears through my blood whether I like it or not. Pearls, seersucker and miniature golf live within me.
I found myself saying to someone who had no idea what I was talking about… a great thing about buying a new bed, is you don’t need to flip the mattress for a while.
Where I come from, this is normal practice when the seasons change. Not only do you wash everything in bleach as if there’s a cholera epidemic, but you turn your Posturepedic over like a steak.
Last time I engaged a man I knew to help me initially thinking it was foreplay…code for, let’s fool around…first I’ll flip the mattress then I’ll flip you.
It wasn’t. My Connecticut was showing not unlike a slip peaking below my hem reminding me along with everyone else, where I hail from.
I still don’t wear white after Labor Day even in the privacy of my own home. I mean, what if word got out, how could I show my face at a country club again?
Thank you notes are right up there with cook-outs, arriving on time and always returning the engagement ring.
And I would never show cleavage, even if I had it, before 5.
After hearing Ed and Ev were over the state line I got a little giddy and perhaps a tad carried away donning my vintage gingham skirt, pleated Chanel blouse and Ferragamo pumps with the pilgrim’s buckle that make me feel like an explorer on her way to brunch.
Hope my friends had as good a time actually there, as I did, in woozy reverie.